Time Constantly Marches On Regardless Of Us.

I watch from the wings as the flowers of youth bloom. In time, they will wither and in winter be doomed. The seasons will keep changing; there'll be birth and death. There will be joy and laughter; sadness and distress. Time constantly marches on regardless of us. We cannot cling to it for long. Through us it cuts. In dreams, I watch the soft light fade from the faces Of those I once knew. I can't make out their ages, But I can sense they are becoming frail and old. I glimpse ominous shadows: longer do they grow. The blind and the naïve: so little do they know. O I remember glorious days that we sold For bit parts in life's paltry, preposterous play! What happened to our visions and our wondrous ways?