What A Fool Was I

by Roy D. Follendore III
Copyright © RDFollendoreIII 2001

What a fool was I.

To have tried to stand,

to have left my Mother's milk breast,

to have pushed away from my Father's table.

For I thought that I was immortal,

and had a far more steady hand,

and that my Father

was too unable unsteady then.

I am now old and tired; unable to see that fine golden thread

that I so clearly saw then.

For my now blind eyes were not then;

I know now why my parents did not try hard enough then;

Perhaps my memory was not long enough when,

my feet was not made of sand.

What a fool was I.

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