Since I spent ridiculous amounts of time coming up with this, I thought I'd record my sonnet here. I always start poetry as kind of trivial but it always ends up being serious. Or at least more serious than I had originally planned.
Oh what a laugh that one should dare to trust
A Word, expressed, so oft in times of love.
For petty difference and selfish rust
Will break the Word despite the strength thereof.
A Word may seem, in dire times of need,
A promise spoken in sincerity.
But wiser men will wisely pay no heed
To words that make of kindness, mockery.
The call of common nature dictates thus:
The fox will always lie to get his way.
And so the cunning have their way with us
If we would prove so gullible a prey.
Then to the fool who thus would speak I cry:
In trusting there is hope; in lies we die!