Childhood passes with languorous pace
A thousand hours make up each and every day
No seconds wasted in useless chase
If it adds not to childhood's rich cache
If it adds not happiness in some minute way
If it puts not a smile upon youths face
Each precious minute is time to treasure
As the sun awakes from a slumber deep
Time stretches endlessly without measure
Locked perpetually in an everlasting sleep
So many things to do in innocent pleasure
So many things to do that will not keep
Eventually we leave behind us our childhood years
Yearning for adulthood and all it brings
Striving to better our selves in dull careers
Continuously searching for more tangible things
Perhaps adulthood is not always what it appears
Now each hectic day passes as if on wings
