Four Years of Youth
Still I weep for those four years
Which I wasted in my youth—
Yet not in the pains that this tale bears
Would they ever again be found;
For in many days of vanity
Was I of my sanctity dispossessed—
When innocence was far from me
In the valley of godlessness!
Sweet heavens, but for His grace,
I would have died in my guilt—
Tho' sometimes right before my face
Appears the scars of my wrongs!
And then I'm left to weep the years
Which I had lost in times past—
Which if regained would nonetheless
Leave me with these permanent scars.
Copyright © Folajin Ademola | Year Posted 2018
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