A barb of truth that’s dipped in spite, Can wound the soul with cruel delight. It pierces deep, a poisoned dart, And leaves a scar upon the heart. A clever lie, with honeyed tongue, May comfort for a time, though wrong. But better peace, though built on sand, Than truth that's wielded by evil’s hand. A man full of hate or cold distain Can twist the truth to bring you pain. And a truth that’s told with bad intent, Beats all the lies you can invent.