Time moves slowly during youth, as if it might last forever.
Such trickery from Nature, deceiving us to believe
That happiness will always be ours in idyllic innocence;
That forever we can be childlike and trusting, ever naïve.
Then maturity comes stalking, like a panther on the prowl;
It seizes its hapless victims without warning or care,
And we, in our ignorance, flail against Reality's vicious tide,
Caught by the rush of responsibility, caught unaware.
Just when we seem to acclimate to the sudden shift in roles,
Time also decides to change its steady pace
Until the moments are rushing by faster than we can see
And we haven't anymore time to waste.
How I wish for Time to return to its First Form,
When there was no reason to rush or hurry.
But now I see that will only happen when I pass from this life
And have no more reason to worry.