A Fleeting Dream

Your youth is as fleeting as a good dream,

And age becomes a number that you fear.

It is not something you can just redeem.

Beauty starts to fade with each passing year.

How cruel is the great World that we hate her?

The springtime of your life abandons you.

Life is as ever-changing as nature.

Life is not permanent like a tattoo.

As time goes on, our youthful dance will end,

And many a memory comes and goes.

With winter's age you must quickly contend.

Since youth is gone, you can't deal with such foes.

And from this dream we shatter and awake.

The people of this world it does forsake.