Much have I lost these dismal years:
I rode on awry words spoken by peers.
My ears were clogged when elder words,
Pleaded me: fly with dear birds.
Birds heedfully minded, gracious, good.
Forth from folly clouds that ever stood.
Oh! If only my eyes could see, that
All these times, I was a dullard rat.
Who blindly swam in unripe streams:
And never saw the light: now it seems.
That's why Son, listen with heedful ears:
All I hath learned through my dismal years:
When our streams begin their petty flow,
They are alike other streams and flow slow.
But, as our waters ages, grows,
It's up to us what water glows.
Euphoric years amount in later years,
When choices you make are free from peers.