The Lie

Although he didn’t lie to her,
He did withhold the truth,
Which he guessed was kind of similar
No innocence, no youth.
He told himself twice daily
That he did it ‘cos he cared
And he never stopped to contemplate
That she might feel quite scared.
That she may know he was lying
That she may now doubt his love,
Though he lied out of compassion
She saw pigeons and not doves.
Perhaps if he’d been honest,
Then they might have had a chance
But as it was,
The lie he told,
Led to their final dance.