THE THINGS I DID THAT TWERN'T SO NICE

I detest this voice that follows me
each day as on my travels be.
It whispers:
Time will come when you'll regret
those little things you did, and yet....

How innocent it seemed to me
when I merely ate the grape to see
if it twer' ripe or sour be.

There ain't no use in losing sleep,
after all, it were just a tiny heap
of trash we left behind that day
as we quickly, quietly sped away.

It's no big deal to run a light
if there ain't no sneaky cop in sight.
They say a crime just ain't a fact
unless you're caught right in the act.

The neighbors, they'll not ever no
twas' me, the one who took the hoe.
I needed it, twas' plain to me,
the weeds that grew made it hard to see.

Yet, this voice that follows me
will simply not let this matter be.
It says a day will come in time
when I'll regret this trait of mine.
Cause I'll be the one to pay the price
for the things I did that twern't so nice.

(Written for lesson on honesty.)