To Fly

Time is that which you cannot flee it flies faster as you grow gray; what once was twig is now a tree; grown tall and wild upon the brae. You once moved faster than the wind, the daring, dashing youth that flew; and as to time itself; you grinned it’s ticking, it meant naught to you. Time now flies such as once you did ten sunsets now do pass as one. One last bravura from your id; hope you enjoyed the flight, and fun.