The former days when I was young <br />Foolish too I must suppose, <br />To think in patterns oft to bold, <br />With never a second thought <br />At those who passed along my way, <br />How strange the face and time <br />If memory could serve so well, <br />Might I just be a better man today <br />If I had stopped to chat awhile, <br />To know the soul behind the face <br />The former days of gone away, <br />Or simply just so easily forgotten <br />A practice of my too familiar youth, <br />Now I seem to sadly be that man <br />The one who is not seen nor heard, <br />As those who rush head long into a night <br />So black it will be all to quiet, <br />Would I even warn these rude youth <br />Or would they heed a white and hoary head, <br />Who in former days was just a fool, <br />This is a lesson we must learn <br />And never one so aptly taught by aged men.<br /><br />Sidney Johnson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hard-lessons-2/
