Happiness is a varicoloured butterfly Fluttering like eyelashes, long ones In the cold of December, eat buns What else, what else rhymes…yes, runs Youth is a fleeting dream, flitting Like the butterfly aforementioned Faded memories you carry into old age Child of strife, a waif, ghosts by in stealth Ho hum, a long drawn out sigh, expels breath If this, this is all, all this is life’s sum Then what do we do, in history’s bum Oh look, a cotton puff cloud floating slow Where have we come from, where to now?