Saved In The Nick Of Time © Poem by Roann Mendriq

Will someone dust my footprints,
from that old forbidden path?
Where once I dared to venture,
and wept in the aftermath...

Will anyone please consider,
that I knew not what I did;
I followed blindly, foolishly,
to almost do what I was bid.

Will no one try to understand,
how they tantalize and taunt?
How their very needless presence,
returns to mock and haunt?

Yet a gentle voice within me,
softly advises that they stay;
A strong, constant reminder
to never nearly go astray.

To take the known and narrow road,
that I was called to tread;
To turn from danger - dusty paths,
that always end with dread.

My footprints are a beacon,
of the lesson I have learnt;
And though my soul was singed,
I was saved from being burnt.

For barely in the Nick of time,
I turned to home and raced;
Never, ever turning back,
to dangers that I faced.

And so I leave those footprints,
to stand just where they are;
My weakness is my warning,
- an old familiar scar.