Life is as a metronome,
Beating to constant tune;
Her figure as an hour glass
Sands rushing to make their dune.
Life is as a silent wind
Passing by unheard, unseen;
Her hair entangled in our paths
Our eyes made less than keen.
Life is but a child's game
Innocence that lays;
Her face so young, but wisdom old
Changed by stagnant days.