An honorable man made one mistake
And now the perception is he is a snake.
He defiled something that was good
Once. So forever, he’ll be misunderstood.
What was good was not entirely good
In the specifics of what it was.
But the public judges without specifics.
That’s what it does.
To be understood the man must write
A thousand poems every night.
And the moral crime
Must fit into a perfect rhyme
To make things right.
The poems? Where are they?
Who shall publish them?
Never mind. When the public reads
They will skip all the good deeds.
They will go right to the offense—
Described in a poem floating in the air
Where they will find themselves guilty
In a passage obscure and rare.
They will read of their hearts in his heart
Which will bring copious tears.
Too late to explain. His masterpiece of justification
Will be defeated by the years.
As you will be, who could not forgive.
None will forgive those tears.