Tall Tales Poem by Heather Marie Mortimer

You were a tale which grew to be far too tall
And so much farther still for my heart to fall
Yet in this free-fall is freedom, in spite of it all
With the freedom of spite, things grow so bare and small.

Now so much smaller seem the scars that were left by you
And in your leaving, found the moral of a story or two
In my quest to write stories, instead I found something true
And a quest to find truth seldom lacks what we already knew.

Yet in the end, it's all the same: lies and stories, truth, deceit...
In the end it's all the same: in the end our own two feet.