With decades ahead of them, praise in their hand,

The young folks will seek the good of the land.

What could they know of what lay ahead;

How sorrows will drench their unkempt bed.

They’ll grow old soon enough when wisdom comes home,

When abandon comes knocking; leaving them all alone.

Everyone’s salted with fire, you know.

Oh, how paleness replaces that once youthful glow.

But who can advise those who simply won’t die,

To replace youthful lust with Eternity’s eye:

Tell them once, tell them twice, tell them three times, why more?

Your words can’t draw pictures of what lay in store.

Pray for them deeply.

Love them through Christ.

Pray they’ll live meekly.

Lest their hearts turn to ice


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