Time changes, my love.

Flowers bloom and wither away;

Everything wary with time.

Like, the sun grows old;

With every passing day.

So does the moments of our lives,

Different on their own, like bee hives;

With an essence of their own,

That never returns over time.

Times will never be the same;

Now, we laugh and smile,

Like no worry in soul;

Then, sad and wrath heart .

Somehow the ones we hate,

Become the one we learn to love;

Though we realize it,

A little too late.

Little do people change;

It's the way one sees,

That wary over time,

Like, dime to ash or ash to dime.

As one grows out of;

The things they used to know,

This is why they say;

Times change, my love.

For my dear friend, Javera.

Happy birthday!