When Nathan asked 'why can't I lie',
his mother, who was baking pie
explained that following her lead
would get to Heaven him indeed.
'So does this mean, then, mother dear
that those small ears did never hear
a fib come out of you, not ever?
I reckon that this is just clever
and compromise diplomacy.
I ask myself, how can it be
that you would never need to lie',
he said, and nibbbled from the pie.
'As surely as the horse thieves hung
you'll grow a pimple on your tongue,
so let us make this matter simple
and open wide, search for the pimple..'
But mother who would never lie
now concentrated on her pie.
She kept her ruby-purple lips
closed tightly to keep in those fibs.
Herbert Nehrlich
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lies-10/
