Stories told about oneself by mouth,
are filled with lies or broken truth;
for what the heart might be underneath,
the mouth will tell and exagerate.
The truth about one you wish to know
are found in their eyes when gazed so slow
for the eyes you know will tell no lies
but the lips of men are like buzzing flies
when men are asked to say their name,
in a congregation as the case may be,
they add titles to them to flatter themselves,
and for the comon man also to feel downcast
but what we trully are, are dust of the ground
our life we so ...