In days of youth, we danced with boundless glee,
A vibrant tapestry of dreams we wove,
With hearts so light, like leaves upon the tree,
In innocence, our spirits freely rove.
But time, relentless, marks its silent stride,
Upon our brows, it paints its fine lines deep,
The cares and sorrows, like a rising tide,
Can steal the joy we once held in our keep.
Yet, let us not lament the fading days,
For wisdom's grace, a gift that age bestows,
Like sunset's hues in twilight's tender haze,
It paints a beauty only time could compose.
Aging, though it takes its toll, we find,
Can gift us treasures of a different kind.