Allergic to truth

 

I’m having an allergic reaction to truth.
It is not a choice but fact.
How it came to be?
Is not a mystery.

When a lonely lie took its home.
In the attic of my mind.
Little did I know.
It will start a family.

At first I thought it was an honest mistake.
Or perhaps just a white lie.
A fib to be forgotten.
A half-truth with minor consequences.

But the bachelor in my mind.
Is now a practising polygamist.
The attic is no longer big enough for his growing family.
Or is it now generation of families?

The barrage of falsehoods flowing in incessantly.
Like the never-ending sequence of the pi.
Has emigrated and taken over.
My ethical sanity lost in transition.

Truth is no longer substantive.
Facts are now portrayed as fake.
Pinocchio rebranded as a symbol of virtue.
God cannot lie, but nothing to stop his followers.

I am now allergic to truth.
Why not, when the lies seem to taste sweeter?
With truth in abeyance.
The aroma of bullshit is preferred.

Politicians expect total obedience.
Science is debunked daily.
Deceit enhances power.
Appearances trumps integrity.

Attuned to all the lies.
Acceptive to its false allure.
Pliable to its maleficence.
The conjecture of truth itself becomes a lie.

Desperately looking for a medication to treat my allergy.
Or perhaps just a placebo.
Please can someone help me to get rid of this unabating itchiness.
And let me take back control of my wretched life.

- S.T. Arasu