The Unreliable Narrator
“No, Jessica left those toys out.”
“Yes, I brushed my teeth.”
“No, he hit me first”
“I’ve already practiced two hours this week.”
The virtue of lies was taught to me young.
The cues were crystal clear.
Each question hinted at better rewards
So I avoided pain and valued what’s dear.
But as an adult I now seek the truth
and I see through your years of lies
Don’t shake your head at me
I see through your alibis.
You’ve always been a scoundrel
a friend in only fair weather,
I’ll start anew, a fresh clean slate,
I regret each minute we’ve been together.
— by Sabio Lantz, 10/11/12
Background: Kerry, at “Real Toads“, asks us to write about “The Unreliable Narrator” — a new concept to this literary ignoramus — her post is great fun. My intent in this quick, draft poem is to show that the narrator of this poem, taught the value of lies when young continues even as an adult though she thinks herself wiser. She is all of us, of course.
Commentors: I value doubts, questions, clarifications, explorations, probings, arguments and suggestions probably more than compliments. Thank you!