I swear, I am honest!

In years past,
There was a boy named Jack,
He was 11 years old,
And whatever he said, he never took back.

Of course this meant no stories,
Or lies, big and small; none played,
He was just a little kid,
But he was straight as Georgie's blade.

He would tell you if you were ugly,
Or if you had stinky breath,
So much so that people thought,
He needed a stinking thorn wreath.

None could lead him astray,
However well intentioned,
Not even his mother tried (after he called her soup goulash),
She had become conditioned.

Though, one day it came crashing down,
Little Jack tripped on a school stair,
His mistake 'twas,
But he blamed it on a wire laid bare.

His honest days were over,
Now he is 54 and some,
He has a huge house with a pool,
Filled through with vodka and rum.

Yes, the school payed out,
10 million sweet kachings,
He had it all invested of course,
And even owns a Chinese named Ling's.

Where is the moral? you ask,
Well look for it up your arse,
For life is full of people,
Who live out a rich, wholesome farce.