Wasted Years

I looked upon an old, dilapidated house

I once had owned. . .

The windows were boarded up

and the yard was overgrown.

This was the house where the children grew

and where we had lived for years. . .

And now everything was broken down

and memories made me brush away the tears.

When I looked upon my soul one day

I found that it too had grown. . .

There were thorns and nettles everywhere

because of the seeds of neglect I had sown.

Many years had passed

while I cared for things of lesser worth. . .

Those things of heaven I let go

while minding the things of earth.

I then turned to Jesus with bitter tears

and cried, “O Lord, forgive!”. . .

I haven’t much time left for Thee,

not many years to live.

Those are wasted years, forever gone,

and many days I can’t recall. . .

But if I could live those days again,

I’d make You Lord of all.

—Tom Kesting (Poet)