Honor Bright Poem by Charlotte Ballard

Honor is a pretty thing,
Bright and shined
Yet easily lost, not soon
Regained.

Don't leave it in the streets,
Don't leave in the crumpled sheets
Don't leave it in the batter of
A life gone wrong.

Honor protects, soothes
The pains that come
From not quite doing it right.
Rules hold it on, tighter, and tighter

Rip it off, and the hair of conscious comes
Off with it, and the cold of indifference
Trickles in through the cracks
Of morality, twisted twice