An Impermanent Truth We enjoy the falsehood Which believes our youth prevails In the slowness of formative years. But while the clock ticks apparent, slow And the mirror shows an unchanging image The wrinkles grow and creep From the gentlest smile lines And joyous creases of laughter To the crevasses and frowns of pain and loss As the years gather and pass The face is no longer recognisable As that you always were and saw
The truth is impermanence For those wrinkles and lines and creases and frowns Will all wither to memories
The truth is impermanence For those wrinkles and lines and creases and frowns Will all wither to memories
