He had a harum-scarum youth
His life an apotheosis of a moral-less soul
He thought all advisers nudniks
Who could blame him when his blood sat in a heating pan
II
He had no life mirror
In his living workable paradise
So wore the stains of faults like happy robes
Until the legs of his skin fell in the hands to pulling time
III
Who can fetch the years gone bad
And fix the body its rot has eaten?
His mind regrets its sorry journey
Which knew no bliss of correction
But who will remedy? Discern directions from this, ye boiling blood
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) October 19, 2016
(Photo Credit: Google pics)
Excellent, my Dear Amoa! The Hot heads. To reverse and quote: “If Age but Could, and Youth but Knew.” …Regards in Your Wonderul Fight. With Love, Yesudas.
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Thank you Sir. Blessings. 🙂
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The Very Same to You, too, my Dear Amoa! 🙂
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