Manner Of Manners
Poem By Frederick Francis
Two wrongs may not make a right
But three wrongs means you’re on a roll.
Let my apprehension flow out with the tide.
Why not put one more to the final toll?
If you’re not tempted, just once more you lied.
At least I can be honest about dishonesty.
Behind my politeness I don’t cower and hide.
The way a prisoner would stare transfixed
At the ocean as it extends beyond the window bar.
Tension mounts the longer the temptation exists.
Preparing to pounce I move closer from a far,
A cat to dancing yarn, I can’t resist,
When I realize that this cat stands alone,
That my conformity ceases to persist.
Some people may say I am not proper.
I would reply politeness is just not me.
Ethics are important but cordiality I find
Far to restricting; I prefer to be free.
One can be polite and completely un-kind.
For this exercise in the inane I haven’t patience,
I’ll happily exist in the social rind.
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