Somehow I saw the coming of this day -

it wasn't really diff'rent from before -

I looked for something better anyway

and never won't be looking anymore.

I ask you: have I not presented oft

the face of one entreating your regard?

My voice a song, my cadence witty, soft;

is there some countenance that I have marred?

Perhaps we are but shortly to be reft

and never cross these winding youthful roads:

when you are nothing, what will you have left

but what you'd had when under lighter loads?

With no redemption given at your end,

are you so certain how your life should tend?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

An extension of events of real life, as most of these will probly be.

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