A Dying Breed

A DYING BREED
A dying breed, the ones who know
They do not see the emperor’s clothes,

And if to sophistry we turn,
We doom ourselves to never learn.

Yet still there is a charm in tales
We tell ourselves, so lies prevail.

When our reflections don't align
It is our eyes we redesign,

While our perceptions large distend
And we continue to pretend.

I too am guilty, for I find
Dissembling to be so kind.

Forever naked we will roam 
For such delusions find no home.