In the symphony of life, a
catalogue of 'afters' unfolds,
A melody of moments,
precious and untold.
Navigating the score, with
choices to make,
Wisdom realized, not to
let moments forsake.
The coffee grows cold, a
subtle metaphor,
For time slipping away,
knocking on the door.
Priorities dance, a shifting
ballet,
In the rhythm of life, they
constantly sway.
Promises, like notes, can be
easily lost,
In the hustle and bustle,
the price is the cost.
The symphony plays on, a
relentless stream,
Yet, the echoes of broken
vows haunt our dreams.
Children grow, like the
crescendo's rise,
A harmonious journey, a
profound surprise.
Parents age, their notes
slowly wane,
Yet, their wisdom lingers as an eternal refrain.
Life's rhythm doesn't pause
for our delays,
It marches forward in
mysterious ways.
As we dance to the beat, of
the grand parade,
Each step we take leaves a
mark, a cascade.
The symphony concludes, the
final chord,
A poignant moment, the truth
underscored.
In the silence that follows,
reflections arise,
As we embrace the rhythm,
where no echo lies.
So, let us conduct with
purpose and grace,
Embrace each note, in this
fleeting space.
For in the catalogue of
'afters,' we find,
The melody of life is profound
and intertwined.
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