The beauty of life
Is the mystery called youth
Which creeps into naïve childhood
With a feisty radiance
Those limited hours
Spent in rebellion
Daydreams and ambition,
Trivial rivalries and futile competition
Some grasp the purpose
Moving ahead with grace
While others are left behind
Clutching the hastening youth
With bodies growing old
And perplexed mind forever stagnated
In escapisms and past fantasies
So well but nightlake! Clutching the hastening youth…. Know it too well!
yes!! sadly we have to go grow old:)