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.