When I break a promise, how can I complain?
When one turns around, and does just the same.
When I say something, what does it mean?
Are my intentions as clear as they seem?
I’d like to be honest, noble — sincere.
Yet balk at the prospect of facing the fear.
Hurting your feelings would bring me no glee.
Hoping you pick up the signals I leave.
Am I a coward? Meek and so mild.
Not like I’m protecting — the heart of a child.
Let me be pellucid, by virtue’s decree.
The one I’m protecting, is not you, it’s me.
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