SJ (July 27,1953 / Ludington, Michigan)

Hard Lessons

The former days when I was young
Foolish too I must suppose,
To think in patterns oft to bold,
With never a second thought
At those who passed along my way,
How strange the face and time
If memory could serve so well,
Might I just be a better man today
If I had stopped to chat awhile,
To know the soul behind the face
The former days of gone away,
Or simply just so easily forgotten
A practice of my too familiar youth,
Now I seem to sadly be that man
The one who is not seen nor heard,
As those who rush head long into a night
So black it will be all to quiet,
Would I even warn these rude youth
Or would they heed a white and hoary head,
Who in former days was just a fool,
This is a lesson we must learn
And never one so aptly taught by aged men.

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