Dipped in agony, regret and shame;
No good thing comes with his name.
Eyes look downward; can’t look straight;
His lot is hardly a thing of fate.
The land of opportunity; they didn’t lie;
From a dark, rural life to the city of lights.
The flickering dazzled, blinding eyes,
Many deeds of folly—far from wise.
Now dep’d to his country of birth;
No place he’d rather be on earth.
Not this way, though—an utter letdown;
But welcomed with smiles, and not a frown.
“Don’t let the bright lights fool you”,
The church lady had told him.
“It leads to dark and rough seas,
Swallowing you even if you can swim.”
“Broad roads lead to destruction;
Strait is the right gate.”
He thought of this frequent admonition;
But now it’s too late.
Copyright © Larisa McBean