the next kind soul

you know when the child
is lying.
the look.
the averting eyes.
the shrug of shoulders
and pretend
shame and guilt.
they learn early to get
away with things.
hand
in the cookie jar,
a stolen
this, or that.
promising never again
to
do what they got caught
at.
but they do and they do,
until their
life
is upside down with no
mother
to forgive them again,
or to wipe away their
crocodile tears,
and faux frown.
they are on their own
at last, but knowing that
there is another kind
soul
to forgive them, and not
take them to task.