Careless then, as he is now
He went about not asking how
As he is now - perhaps a change
For now he's left once more ashamed
Of things he's said, and things he's done
He might ascribe it all to fun
But if he did, t'would be a lie
He's just a 'hat, as I'll describe
Some hurt is not - but some is meant
Some words were said to leave a dent
A bruise, a scar, a wanton slur
If you agree, I shall concur
That he cannot be trusted now
With social grace - oh, he can bow
And praise with such astounding skill
But 'neath it all, the power thrill
Of hurting. God, I must confess
That it pains me, and I am stressed
To know these were most unneeded
Yet this warning left unheeded
I'll offer you apologies
And dress them up in autumn's breeze
But I have rendered these before
And then came back to slur some more
So bless your heart: so good, so true
With all these reperations due
I cannot think of facing you
Again, so lean once more and laugh
For life is not a paragraph
And sixty-four birthdays will not close the parenthesis.
