The Boy Who Cried What?

He was awake so he texted her lies
She was in bed but she thinks he’s a nut
He thinks he’s clever for sending his cries
She texts him back, ‘You’re the boy who cried what?’

Taken aback don’t he know what she means
Continuing she says ‘You know you’re a creep’
He stares at his phone, now he’s done with his preens
‘For giving misinfo while I’m trying to sleep’

‘For years you’ve been saying things right and things wrong
You might like to swing dance but you’re not sleeping around’
He says ‘Its about your reaction when I sing my song
You want me to give you my flesh, well fine, here’s the pound!’

She says to him, ‘Look man I don’t want anything from you now
Just please stop alarming me with tales that are tall’
In reply he types ‘You’re correct and I know it, please don’t have a cow
I’ll tell you the truth and keep the editorials to small’

But of course we all know that’s just not how it works
Even if I was the writer of lives of mankind
Because where is the fun, in telling truth, there aren’t jerks
But as to using credence as a story, I’ll say I’m disinclined

So word to the wise please always tell the truth
Or you who’ve cried what will be uncovered by a sleuth
Unless being found out is your cup of tea
In which case please contact, and I’ll interview thee

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