The time is now.

There is a time for everything;

An action for every season of life.

The moral of this poem is,

The world doesn’t change,

People do.

Now is the time for learning.

The books are out.

The teachers are eloquent.

The pens are scribing.

Now is the time for growing.

The world is becoming complicated.

The people are becoming different.

The masses are becoming unrecognizable.

Now is the time for dancing.

The music vibrates old habits

The party represses bad memories

The clouds open up to the sky.

Now is the time for adventure.

The wanderlust is fresh.

The natural is calling, softly strong.

The road is leading anywhere

Now is the time for stability.

The work is becoming repetitive.

The home is becoming crowded

The affection is becoming dim

Now is the time for dying

The books are closed

The people are all the same

The wanderlust is dead

The home is deafly quiet

The road remaining, only leads to one, final place.

Now, is the time.

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