"The greatest lies..."

The greatest lies are those we tell ourselves.

I once believed my words were heaven-sent,

Arranged old chapbooks on the dusty shelves,

And found some meaning in a compliment.

Behind a wooden desk, I spent each night,

In yellow light which made the pages ancient,

Believing that, like God, a man could write

The world into existence, with some patience.

Through all of this, I never paused (to breathe!)

To see that life passed by unnoticed while

I looked for adjectives, that beauty’s span is brief,

And that my writing is an act of self-denial.