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We lie about the dead
Giving them sudden sainthood
Nothing clears a name
Faster than life’s end
Your sins all remembered
But never spoken again
A world of pain inflicted
That will never be resolved
But speak praise praise praise
For our tormentors
And silence any truth
That may dare slip out
Image is more important
Than any honesty
In a shallow world
That demands compliance
We the living
Are mere objects
Destined only to enhance
The narrative
And if we dare
Step out and speak up
We are debunked and denied
We become invisible
For daring
To lift our voices – Caroline A. Slee