In a quiet bowl, a tale began,
Of a fish with tricks that fooled each man.
A beta fish with colors bold,
But Liarfish, as he’d be told.

He’d float belly-up, still as stone,
As if his soul had swiftly flown.
Panicked eyes would widen, stare—
“Is Liarfish no longer there?”

But with a sudden, secret glee,
He’d flick his fins and swim carefree.
Laughing bubbles on his way,
Another prank to start the day.

“Oh, Liarfish!” the people cried,
“You got us good—oh, how you lied!”
And so his name began to grow,
A symbol of a tricky show.

From village streets to busy towns,
His tale spread far, it gained renown.
And when someone would stretch the truth,
Liarfish’s name would slip out smooth.

“Caught in a lie!” the people say,
“That’s Liarfish at work today!”
A wink, a grin, a knowing smile—
They’d call out tricks from many a mile.

Now Liarfish is legend, grand,
A playful prank passed hand to hand.
His name still floats on whispered lips,
When truth and lies make clever flips.

So if you hear a tale askew,
Remember Liarfish, swift and true—
For in his playful, tricky art,
He’s the master of a lying heart.

Don't tell lies
Don't play tricks

Not possible to do bad and be a good person

I am not God
It is not my place to judge
I am speaking from experience

I lie
I am being 100% honest

Sometimes I lie in bed at night

Once upon a time
Truth and fib went for a walk.
Fib tumbles and fall
Truth chuckles, supples and walked
In past, present and future.

What
next?
Always
the question
that keeps me awake
at night; troubled during the day.
Consumed by this exhausting, insatiable hunger
to decipher the mysteries of a nebulous future, I find it mighty hard
to take a deep breath, look around, notice all the colors and revel in the beauty of how far I have come from the shadows of my past.