Life is blown out like a candle flame,
Future with-held in doors unclaimed,
Running away as to be tangle free,
Brings me again to the good old tree.
The tree with the knowledge of love,
Where tenderness bestows from above.
I may have grown a day to old,
Confident, grumpy or too bold,
But I don't want to remain in flocks,
Running around the same old blocks.
Tired of the haste and intangible locks,
As time's running out in ticking clocks.
I won't stop no matter what happens,
As the one above never defined my cause,
But it doesn't mean I could take a pause,
No matter what I am, It doesn't matter what i was,
I am ever-changing, persistent as time,
Even though the world shall mock,
And time still runs away in the ticking clocks.
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