'' Now Is Too Late '' Poem by Bri Mar

If Heaven's for the pure,
Then you can be sure,
In residence there'll be very few,
It doesn't reassure,
That despite the allure,
Sinning is what most of us do.

Who'll cast that first stone,
Will they stand alone,
In reality, most are liars and thieves,
You may resent my tone,
But if no rock is thrown,
Guilt is what this one perceives.

Can you honestly say,
Throughout life each day,
Erring has not entered your mind,
A chance of some pay,
Didn't tempt you to stray?
To the facts so many are blind.

That little white lie,
The ones we deny,
Conveniently we tend to forget,
When things go awry,
We tend not to comply,
One day we will live to regret.

Those others we've binned,
The ones we rescind,
Thinking they'll all disappear,
The severity we've thinned,
They're gone with the wind,
With yourself you are being austere.

That Heavenly domain,
You hoped to attain,
Is but a dream you cannot backdate,
Purity you can't feign,
Your life of disdain,
Will show you,

‘' Now Is Too Late ‘'