There was time when things were bright and clear
And a time when I might have been younger
When skies were blue and birds sang tunes
I might have been a kindly king or emphatic peasant
We might have been peas in a pod
So dissimilar in our similarity
We might have been singers of acclaim
Or whose payment were of rotten fruit
Wherefore then are the good intentions
Of either in our pursuits
Do we know the value of the life within us?
Or might we have squandered it
And in the time of aging
Sit back to sigh, "Oh what might have been!"
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