Paths of Life

By Birdie   

Down this weary path of life,
Through winter and through spring,
Merry moments, times of strife,
To many things we cling.

Springtime finds us very young,
With minds so quick and eager,
Plans in minds we all have strung,
The things we’ve done but meager.

Middle-age, the prime of life,
Our minds are kept on duties,
All our goals remain in sight,
These things make us quite moody.

Winter time, and we are aged,
Don’t know how time flew by,
In life’s book we’ve flipped the pages,
We can’t stay young – although we try.

Each path of life is different,
Each on could end sharply,
Upon each other we make a print,
I hope you like the one from me.

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