I must confess with humbled sigh
That years ago I told a lie
So I could smile and comfort buy
For my feelings.
But cunning words are slow to die--
As misgivings...

The thing at first was small in cast,
About three puffs of twisted blast,
A clever dodge then spoken fast
So sin might hide
And stay below in caverns past
Where secrets bide.

But covers fell and brought to light
The foul deceit within that night
And nothing said could make it right
Once actions spoke;
Now I am bound--forever tight--
To sorrow's yoke...

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