When you have a child,
And reality grips your senses,
In moderation and mild,
The scolding and tender defences;
When loves goes cold,
And romance becomes a figment,
But you did as was told,
If only that was the requirement;
When death approaches,
And life has run its course,
No time for presupposes,
Only to fulfil, this one sure curse.
Nothing ever remains the same.