Deceit Poem by Rhonda Seymour

Beat the heat

Sun beams down on me
As I hide under a tree
Sweaty as can be

None of what you see

The sun rests its eyes
While I plan a great disguise
Never believe your eyes

When will it be?

Running through the garden
Whatever shall I do?
Reversing time
Within a rhyme
As you whine about the crime

My greatest victory

As I pass him up in a race
I look at his angered face
No cheers or praises for me
No peeps from the announcers
My laughter was the only sound