My litany of vices is a
Backwards wish list for
Santa, curling down around
My body and tangling under
My feet: I often trip on it.
But really it’s one big vice:
The desire and need to appear
Good but not necessarily be
Good. To this end I tell little
White lies, equivocate, say yes far
Too often, eat in secret, smile or
Frown as the occasion demands,
Safety pin instead of mend,
Stuff closets and slam the doors,
Listen with half an ear, invent
Plausible excuses, cheat at cross
Word puzzles, change my mask
To suit the person in front of me,
And believe deep down that I am
Never good enough.