Marianne L. Reed
This is a measure of time, say I.
A lifetime of living, a minute to die;
A moment to laugh, or to share with a friend;
an hour for a meeting, or days without end. A childhood to spend, the future to gain
Years to squander, or to honor your name.
Smiling, or tearful, your hours will fly
'Till you suddenly find all your days have gone by, An era, an epoch, three score and ten,
How can you measure? Starting from when?
This I can tell you -- you've only one chance