Like the seasons that come and go

Life itself is not permanent

It comes in cycles, then carries on

It doesn’t care about how much you’re hurting

Summer, Fall, Winter and Spring 

Will come again, and leave again

Your mother, your father, your siblings to

Will one day leave, and so will you

Nothing material in this world will last

We are born with nothing, and we leave with nothing

Your morals, your soul, your compassion, and your past 

Are what people will remember

Sunsets and Sunrises will paint stories across the sky.

Day and Night will flip the switch again and again.

The Sun and Moon will change places, repeating this

Sequence over and over, until it is over. 

Like the seasons that come and go,

Nothing is permanent.