Time, we wait.
Life, we shape.
Souls, we rate.
Hearts, we break.
These four things we do,
And know it not, might you.
But really it's quite true .
Yet the questions remain, of why and who,
Yes, it still remains, those two.
Why do we do these things we do?
I cannot tell you,
For that answer can't come from the blue.
Yet you must only give it the time,
All those shall be answered within this rhyme.
Everything shall be laid out in a simple line,
And everything will be just fine.