We all indeed remember.
Those days before December.
We’d rise to dance with fireflies till twilight’s final ember.
For some, these days are past.
Such memories fade, but last.
Where youth succumbs its final breath and numbs the time we’ve passed.
Let us then not forget.
The joy of each sunset.
Now that the boy or girl within this world has time beset.
We’re born, we live, we die.
All clouds in sunlit sky.
These words like summertime are but a brief and pleasant lie.