Lies never go away

A lie is like a dam
or possibly a candle
a tale you have spun
that you place in your pocket
till it creates a hole
such a temperary thing is a lie
a cloak of wool
which keeps out the rain
but not forever
a river pushes against your dam
testing to see
how long you can hold
you can try to rebuild
inforce your beams
but a leak pokes its head
between your stressed arms
it sees the lie 
spelled across your brow
and just like that
the dam has broken
a lie is a bridge
most cross it every day
but you,
bearer of the lie,
must uphold the bridge
try to make those who cross
have trust in the strength of a flower
they walk away
with your lie on their soles
a lie is invisible ink
you see it 
labeling everything you touch 
branding your name
on the detective
like a postage stamp
waiting for someone 
To stab you with light 
a lie is a sewing thread
Woven into a mighty fishing net
pretty as it looks
it snaps under such force
as a single fish
a lie never survives in the real world
the water will slosh against it
testing for a hole 
because no matter how long the dam holds
the river never slows