Whether buried in the depths of snow,
Where you don't always reap what you sow,
People come, and people go.

Be it in the fit of passion,
At the peak of love,
When precious time is either rationed or disposed of;
Or just when your rhythm settles on a flow,
People come, and people go.

Whether that is something you're prepared for or not,
Will you tend to that which can grow
Or that which rots?
Clench not, when a friend can become a foe.
You may run, but eventually you will know,
People come, and people go.