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True Confessions
by Mark Heard

Oh the sun runs its course from the east to the west
With the best of our motives illumined
Then it sinks with a sigh in the dusk of the heart
And our virtue lies worthless as rumour

You can be what you like if you like what you are
We reflect but the sum of our creeds
But we don't seem to seize on the tenets we hold
And they slip through the sieve of our deeds

When we see our mistakes we ache with regret
And the pain makes a lasting impression
But we are stoics at heart when the time is at hand
To beat our breasts and make a true confession

Contributed by Madelyn T. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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