flawless illusion
reality intervenes
eroded facade
behind the bright mask
uncovered with a flourish
truth cloaked alibis
one fine victory
a fallacious feast for eyes
gives what isn’t seen
The word “facade” is another I ploddingly mispronounced for many years. Until I was 16 or so I thought it was /fu•kāde/. I’ll tackle “docile” next.
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MARK PETRUSKA | WRITER
Short essays about novels and other fictional works
By Ian Garrabrant
Home of Micropoetry, Literature, art and philosophy.
Just a fiction writer, trying to reach the world.
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Praying for Eyebrowz 
The first two verses flow seamlessly – “truth cloaked alibis” is superb – the third I’m not sure about? fallacious feast yes, but then you lost me? or did you mean to? Please tell me if I’m out of line questioning your poem – it’s just that almost all your poems in this form bowl me over 🙂
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Your take on it is interesting! I enjoy rethinking my lines. “Gives what isn’t seen” is my whole take on a facade. We want so much to believe that often that’s its own reward. The belief in the fallacy. Like trump. People who followed him desperately believe in his ability to make America great again. But the whole premise is fallacious. America is already great. But his followers will believe and receive because they want to so fervently. That’s my thinking anyhow. I like yours though!
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Interesting how you got there. Actually I did get the feel of a fleeting trump like ghost 🙂
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If only he were fleeting.
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