‘Crime of Youth’ by David Watt

I knew her when I could be called a youth
And life had not uncovered certain truths
Apparent to detectives, super-sleuths;
Such as ‘Best clues are found within untruth.’

For boasting of a car with plushest trim,
Expensive belted tires, alloy rims,
Made me no better than deceptive crims –
With chance of non-detection just as slim.

And then to cap it all, I had to boast
I’d travelled mighty wide, seen foreign coasts,
Slept in hotels grand, dined on French toasts,
Bought all my suits on Saville Row, almost!

Unfortunately, when our first date came,
Her knowing eyes soon recognised my games,
Called me by some less than loving names;
Sneered through lip-sticked lips, “You’re all the same!’’

But then, to my surprise, she spoke at length,
About a talent prized above all strengths:
The sense to recognise Deception’s lengths;
Departing with the phrase “God give me strength!”

Deflated, somewhat wiser, still in shock,
I tucked my tattered jeans inside odd socks,
Freed racing-bike from combination locks;
Chewed bubble-gum on way to home – took stock.

David Watt is a writer from Canberra, the “Bush Capital” of Australia. He has contributed regularly to Collections of Poetry and Prose by Robin Barratt. When not working for IP (Intellectual Property) Australia, he finds time to appreciate the intrinsic beauty of traditional rhyming poetry.