To do things right
Isn’t my natural way
To do things well
Isn’t where my concentrations lay
Rather to hop-along
Just about to make do
To take short cuts
Not ever to follow through
Yet still equal to most
I think you’ll find
We all have weakness
However feint the signs
In such a strong line
One’s bound to bow
A little
As one wonders how
The good and the great
Built their lives
Set apart
Such that goodness thrives
As if of the beating heart
One could truly desire
As if in the torrent
Lies the prospect of fire
