Smoke and smoke and mirrors
A sleight of hand has come to call
What once was held dearer
Has come to mean not much at all
And pages upon pages
Get ripped from slate-but save this!
You may need it in a second life
Trust in truth-but be wary!
You never know these days who’s false
Rust in proof when steel was querried
And wicker roofs against a squall
Sent cutting room in stages
Made sweet enough to taste it
Dissected to a sounding bite