A fishbowl under neglecting hands
will without fail
foster algae

These lies.
Too much for frail eyes to behold,
or to reminisce in duller shade.

In striving
to forget, feeding memory.
Strangled in entangling irony

A lie accepted
is a truth, if not in my eyes.
Deception lingers longest in the mind.

Indeed
to neglect a blooming bowl
is near impossible,
if scrubbing will speed infestation.