(never Come) Too Good Poem by Mary Grace

Who knows I say the truth
Knows me not
Would be better to accuse
“Nothing but a lie she is. Period! ”

The last thing that’s on my mind
Is on my mind
The first things of such kind
Are never kind

I’m the first thing and the last
And in between there’s no place for an honest word
I’ll be future in the past
Thus they say and thus I’ve heard

And thus they should believe
No word ever of mine
And if sweet my face and divine
Beneath I never come to good