The Lie Poem by David Harris

For William Verdun Harris
My late brother.


It started years before I was born,
but the lie came into being after.
I knew nothing of it, why should I?
You never question your parents,
what they tell you, you believe.

Therefore, the lie grew and grew
as years folded into one another.
The lie became accepted as the truth.
Its hurt would not be felt
before four score and more had passed.

A Christmas card with a note from an Aunt.
Your half brother Bill would love to hear from you.
Half brother? I have no half brother.
He is your adopted brother
and my adopted uncle, so I was told.

No, he is your half brother.
I investigated what was said.
Soon the truth of the lie was revealed.
The lie had split two brothers,
to the other sides of the world.

Through urgent phone calls, I found him.
I had to see him, too many years had passed.
Who knows how long we had?
Travel plans were made,
the journey was now set.

After forty-two years, we came face to face.
Hug, tears and a family get together.
Those lost faces from the other side of the world.
We talked and talked into the night,
so much to learn and so little time.

Two weeks went quick and we parted again.
The telephone a communication line,
but how do you make up so many years,
with such little time?
The answer is you don’t.

The next year we extended our visit,
but still it wasn’t long enough.
We would never get another year,
within months my brother was gone,
and for months, I missed his calls.

But the lie was never retracted,
and my sister never got to know,
the other brother that she had.
She still believes the lie,
and won’t accept the truth.

She does not talk to me,
not out of anything either of us has done.
The long distant lie is at fault,
the guilt no one could admit to,
because they felt it would bring great shame.

Now a family lies in tatters,
a sad story all that remains,
about a lie, which almost the truth became.
What will the future bring, that’s something we can never tell.
I for one, hold no one with any ill will.