As the lingering leaves begin to brown,

As the whistling wind grows colder,

Autumn approaches clad in a gown

With Summer's sweet breath

Upon her barren shoulder.

As the dawn fades down to dusk,

As the sun gives way to moon,

The World becomes a silent husk

After the fragile, beautiful butterfly

Has finally left the cacoon.

The seasons come and go;

Clocks count moments with a chime,

And the only thing you have to show

Are the ticking hands of time.

So, live each moment in its glory;

Rebel against the hands of time.

So, understand today is a gift-

That's why it's called the present.