Values

I was raised with honesty
The uncontested rule,
A policy that was enforced
At home and, too, at school.

An object found by chance or luck,
I very quickly learned,
Could never be embraced as mine,
But had to be returned.

The wrong change given in a store?
An error being billed?
I’d proudly point them out; those values
Solidly instilled.

But times have somehow changed and now
Things don’t seem black or white.
My conscience sometimes grapples with
What may be wrong or right.

And so, instead of pride, I felt
A sense of ridicule
When, admitting that I’d underpaid,
I looked more like a fool.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Marcum Wong Avatar
August 24, 2016 at 11:58 PM
It is always best to be honest Ilene. Problem is the young kids hired now don't know how to make change without the register telling them how much and it makes them feel ill at ease and embarassed. This has happened to me so many times, I just shake my head. I loved your poem and its values! 7 ; )
Allison Avatar
August 24, 2016 at 11:45 AM
The final stanza made me sad Ilene that you felt bad for pointing out the error - the shopkeeper should have been delighted at your honesty maybe they just don't see it very often!:-( hugs jan xx
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