Relentless Time

When very young, we blindly may dismiss Our elders’ admonitions about Time, Or future grief or pain, for in that bliss Who recks of illness, death, mischance, or crime? And in our prime, with life’s distracting needs, With open, seeing eyes, we still are blind: We go our ways, and yet, while Time proceeds, The passing hours are rarely brought to mind. But when we're spared into our elder years, We recognize the truth we used to mock: That whether youth was fraught with joy or tears, There is no hope of winding back the clock. Use well the days, because with every breath, Relentless Time will sweep us all toward death.