I liked to drink and mess about,
with no-one to restrain,
I did it my way, soon found out
it led to sadness, pain.
I’m fickle with my friends, don’t want
commitment – free and loose.
– Why is it that decisions haunt
and feel like self-abuse?
I left my home, and took my share,
then squandered it away.
Bankrupt, with no-one left to care
– my ‘pals’ had had their play.
Dare I return, my way now own
was stupid? ask for food?
But look! he’s running, welcomes home
and gives again what’s good!
(cf The parable of the Prodigal Son, recorded in Luke 15)