A Song of Life

To have six one, half a dozen the other;
Things pass from one’s hand to that of another.
Of hope and heartache, betwixt and between;
You know of what I speak, this you have seen.

Be it a bruise or be it a scar;
A discolored spot or permanent mar.
Held deep within your chest and your head;
Tinting your vision a burgundy red.

But time moves on, and summers end;
Whether or not you choose to pretend;
That this world still seems to make much sense,
And no, you’re not in the least bit tense.

As you watch leaves fall from their trees;
Floating down, swaying in the breeze.
A prelude to a foreboding song;
The last remnants of a time long gone.

Or the passing of what was once held dear;
The shedding of just a single tear,
Plus one or two, but bar the rest;
Through countless trial, and endless test.

And now the world, it swirls around;
Simply seeking to confound.
And that is has achieved in you;
For you’re not the person you once knew.

That person of old, now long past.
Your memories of whom are fading fast.
So take a long look, just one last time;
Or let it silently slip from your mind.

With the passing of what was once held dear;
The shedding of just a single tear,
Plus one or two, but bar the rest;
Through countless trial, and endless test.

So give up now, let it pass;
Or hold on till you have breathed your last;
But choose one or the other, don’t be torn;
Don’t let them catch you oh so lukewarm.

For time, it stops for indeed no man;
But yet remains in the strand;
Of vision tainted a burgundy red;
Trapped within your chest and head.

Never passing with what was once held dear;
Or The shedding of just a single tear,
Plus one or two, but bar the rest;
Through countless trial, and endless test.

Save one...