Lost Youth, the Unceasing Search
Youth is that condition of the many,
its fleeting beyond all's own control.
The young in their spirit, as always,
will be there, as our lives to unfold.
My most feeble limbs, all are longing,
for yesterday, and was a body, strong.
Times when no worries were to be had,
We always were just singing our song.
That search is the quest of a lifetime,
all made more aged in its own pursuit.
Every day is an apple to be so perched,
of this chase, not any will ever to refute.
Ah, sweetest youth, evading every turn,
its lesson forever, our need to so learn.
Why can't you just slow down only a bit,
surely one day, I'll catch up with you yet.