false prophet

by Linda M. Crate

lament me not your sorrow
I know you to be a false prophet
and I'll not swallow your lies
as easily as I once did; I will
no longer be naive I must consider
all the times you've cried wolf  —
I cannot believe there actually was
one, but you've got my apologies
if tomorrow the fields are crying crimson
with your tears but until then I'll
keep my distance and skepticism lit.