Honesty Is But Fiction Poem by Bianca Free

These days the world is a place so cold
I wear a genuine smile as a lie's being told
That I assume is the truth, very deeply in my heart
but then there's a doubt that starts.
The man says that he is going through
and needs some help, by means of cash.
I look at him sideways, I don't want to be cross
but I'm not sure what his intentions are.
So I ask out of curiousity what it is he will do
with the money that I put in his hands
and he assures me that it will go to good use,
not be spent on drugs and frivolous things.
That's when I lighten my heart and pull out the money
so that he can have food for the day,
And I walk away with a feeling of generousity.
But when I cross paths with him again
I see him with a cigarette lit and he waves my way.
I feel faint and ready to pounce
on the man who I'd given my money away to.
I was happy at first because I thought
I had helped someone today
but my face drops as I realize
I just supported someone's pernicious addiction.
Honesty is nothing but fiction.