Youth

Just as embers vanish and then not with a gentle blow

So does youth, gnawing slow and bitterly

On the brio of every passing morn and dusk

We call Life:

Sometimes defying nature

With creams or science or unadulterated joy

That dwells on betterment and all the rest

Magnified through rose-tinted glasses;

But sometimes obeying nature

With the simplicities or reality or contentment

That dwells on the unhindered passage of time and all the rest

Magnified through transparent, sometimes, broken glasses.

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