The first lesson my writing professor taught me is that poets lie. I occasionally throw this lesson back in her face when I don't feel like dealing with her "let's dig a little deeper and see how you're really doing" moods.
A classmate and I were talking today about how we lie in our work. She said, "All but maybe two lines in my work are lies." I was taken aback. I always think I am a good liar, when it comes to life situations that would lead to more trouble, I always tell a lie. If others seem worried, tell a lie. With my poetry, I'm able to tell the truth about ceritan things and I feel better because I know it's the truth, but others don't.
I'm torn between telling the truth and lies in poetry. An example of this is there is a poet who constantly wrote about her disabled son, and as it turned out, she never had a son in the first place. People were upset. I can see that. I can even go as far to say, "Well, that wasn't fair of her. I get why everyone's so pisssed."
All of my work either comes from personal experience, or something that has happened to someone I know. I guess I feel like you must be honest with yourself when it comes to your art.