Some of them go away
and some of them grow distant.
Some of them we leave (what fools we are)
and are left with a lifetime of remembrances.
Some of them die (only a few, thank goodness)
but the ones that don't, grow up.
To you that have the children,
I hope you know what you've got.
The future, changeable, in your hands,
something to treasure and tend.
Treasure, not topiary.
Do not prune, twist, or bend.
