Ain't that the truth?

I wonder. If there’s an epidemic. Of people. Creating their own worlds. In order to escape the real world. It’s accomplished. So easily. I do it. Daily. In order to feel good. To get by. Not everyone knows it. Unless I tell them. And even if I do. They don’t always believe it. Think I’m kidding. But really. Things have gotten so bad. I have no other choice. But to lie to myself. In order to keep my sanity. And to survive. Until tomorrow. When I have the opportunity. To concoct a new set of fantastic lies. It must be all right. After all, even the president of the United States does it.  Routinely. He’s mastered the art of fibbing. Never goes for more than a few minutes. Without telling a whopper. We’ve learned to accept it. Lying has become natural. We even fool ourselves. Into thinking that we are telling the truth. While lying between our teeth. We lie. Without any pangs of conscience. Unable to differentiate between fact and fiction. Our lives are built. On big, big lies. Tell me. Ain’t that the truth? --Jim Broede