S.M.H.D.W.M.Y

Seconds, minutes, and hours Days, weeks, months, and years Pass so quickly with the breeze's tears With no limits to stop their powers Lives are tied to their waists Where no one can escape into different times That touched their lives with beautiful chimes While others awaited their flights They meet many people in their path And invite many newborns to their parade Providing each with a unique cascade That beholds their destiny as a shallow bath Time flutters away so quickly Where newborns stretch and grow Sailing across all the stages their chateau Presenting the moments they will pass by Newborns, then, become old people That sit on a rocking chair Helpless, tired, and exhausted from smell of the working air Unable to climb their inviters' steeple One day, old people's breathing ceases And tears begin to gush down many cheeks Muted by the sorrow filled within their tweaks As the old people. the brave leaders, wave their good byes For, they left many stranded from their tender With no one else to replace it As blocks of emptiness fill many with whit As the leaders shall never return with a splendor Seconds, minutes, and hours Days, weeks, months, and years Took many of our beloved old people, our leaders As the eye sight is prevented from seeing then further more...