Time for me is short, nearly gone;
Twilight rests on tomorrow's dawn.
In the kaliedascope of life, I see,
I wonder, have I been, what I wanted to be?

In fact, if analyzed, true to God or to self ?
Did my dreams, childhood toys, gather dust on the shelf?
Brought out like sad memories, every so often ?
Must I take what " could have been " to the coffin ?

I know ! Years slide by, and the valor of youth fades,
The lumber of "just living " become giant windmill blades.
But charge them I must, these windmillls of time
Lest once more I prove this human comedy, divine

At this stage of life, what will help I wonder,
Keep old age from regret when manhood's a blunder.
Too late to resurrect those utopian young dreams?
Or is it true life is sadly, just what it seems?

This proving ground so pitted, so case hard tough,
That lads like me be made of sterner stuff,
To dare to dream, to hope, to accomplish,
Could I do it over again, I know I could, I wish;

I just wish that's all !

William Everyman 1962