Conscience
My conscience is a pain.
It really holds me back.
It takes over my brain
and gives me a lot of flak.
My conscience tells me not to drink.
It tells me not to lie.
It tells me not to puke in the sink.
It tells me I should die.
My conscience made me leave my friend
who used my mother’s house
and drove her round the bend
but he was a little louse!
My conscience
told me to forget
taking a day off.
My conscience told me to regret
not covering my mouth when I cough.
But conscience, while good, is also bad
if you don’t know how to use it.
I guess the experience I’ve had
has made me neglect to choose it.
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