Humility
Eye must not cry.
Feet webbed to the earth,
I sometimes overestimate my worth -
Remember good works on three fingers,
Evil on hands and feet,
Yet I try to seem sweet
But the aftertaste lingers
And my head remembers
Failings and fumblings, footfaults and falls.
But kind people speak to me
And I forget I am humble.
I can never see
How I can be excellent
And never realise or say
But still I pray.