It is going to come
 as some surprise
To those who think
 that I am wise

But I hardly know
 what's right to do
And I've probably done
 far less than you

I'm nothing much
 make nothing different
I'm usually stuck
 so much for wisdom

It makes me sad
 to fall so short
Not what I hoped
 I'd be at all.

But this is not
 the final me
I can be more
 than what I've been

And in reflection
 truth exists:
We often see
 Ourselves through mist.