The first age, a baby crying and squealing
Interested
in the scenery around her!
Feeling
the summer breeze on her soft skin
Smelling
the fresh grass;
Then
a child running freely on the squelching mud
Thinking
she's the fastest of them all,
Laughing
and giggling with friends on the rusty swings;
From
a child to a teenager, teenager, watching and wondering on a bench
Thinking what a
bore, hearing her siblings laughing and fighting
Remembering
the days when she was the same;
Now
a young woman, excited and anxious on her first day at work
Walking
through the clusters of flowers
With
their wonderful fragrance in the air;
Then
a loving mother playing on the swings and slides with her children,
Being
one herself,
Sits
under a blooming tree watching her infants merrily play-
When
they do wrong, shouting in rage;
Then
there's an old women walking down a shady path,
Tired
and lonely, she watches people much younger than her walk past,
Thinking
of the past when she was young, wild and free...
Then
last of all, there's death,
She
lies under the gravely earth
Not
being able to feel, think, hear, smell or see.
