The Lies Of Old Poem by Matt Gotlieb

Working on the trinity ploy
My mind feels like a toy
And in the hustle bustle wiz
I enter into big show biz

A big old life awaits me
On stage and screen you’ll see
But concentrating on the prize
I cannot focus on the lies

The lies of old that I’ve retold
In manners often very bold
As winter becomes very cold
And life itself seems to scold

Sleepless nights confuse me
And sleepless nights bemuse me
In the day the heavens bright
And in the darkness of the night

And Shakespeare says what dreams may come
Dreams of a king dreams of a shlum
And holding on to all the ties
We should not focus on the lies

The lies of that we’ve retold
In manners often very bold
As winter becomes very cold
And life itself seems to scold