I lived a lean and legal lie;
A practiced hypocrite was I.
But underneath, if truth be told,
My heart was stony, proud and cold.
I'd sing the great Redeemer's praise
And then deny him by my ways.
My reputation? Sleek and clean,
The slickest you have ever seen.
So very good at rules and law,
But through my soul a fatal flaw--
My sin, that dreadful, ugly thing!
I was myself my God, my king,
And didn't do it very well.
No, I deserved a burning hell.
But then the Savior by his grace
Broke through, sent life, and wiped my face
Until the tears were dry at last
And my dark days as God were past.
You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye,
and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye.
Even though these statues are girls, not boys, the illustration fits the poem, so I'm using it.