In the vicinity of honesty
Yet can’t quite let go of mendacity
Lies of white and black and colors all surround
Is there still an honest man to be found?

Holding back information,
even for anonymous tips
It’s all a part of this black hole
One we call deceit

Should the gates of bluntness be suddenly thrown open upon us
It’d be considered lucky to go through hours, few, without a fuss
Humanity is still not prepared
And of the chaos that may follow I wish to be spared

All the secrets crumpled up together
It shapes who we are
Or at least a part

In the vicinity of honesty
But not yet completely free
Rid of all tall-tales and fibbing
Man-made stories, dripping
Tongues, gibbering

And who am I to judge?
I, who, with rhymes, lie
not of the truth, but of how deep something is
For I sugar-coat with words others wrote

Expecting others to face the truth, sane
And while I may be able to an extent do the same
I realise we will always, always be
in the vicinity of honesty