Working till the hours of dawn,
nothing to show but my scorn,
canvas bare nothing on,
just a blank page.

Has my life just passed me by?
cannot even reach the sky
wanting, waiting,all in fear
have I wasted every year?

Watch the seasons young and old,
seen the mysteries all unfold
what of life to become,
do we have one?

What kind of future do we have?
any,is that a fact,
or is there time to make amends
gather all our closest friends.

Should we party?
feel just hearty
or help all
our future friends.