In His Own Image

BY CAROLE NICHOLS


Judge me not too harshly

By the measures of loose and free;

For was I not your fondest wish

But uttered and made reality?

Was there no suggestion made,

You received with but one string;

Twas in your arms, with loving done,

A kiss of friends, no harsh words sting.

How quickly when once pressed,

Did you point and then accuse;

What lies became your strongest truth,

So that you wouldn't have to lose?

I was all that you imagined;

I became the image in your mind;

So who are you, who did form the mold;

Judge me, judge you - what do you find?