on the days of summers eve,
a fanciful youth plays his hand at the art,
his friends frolic and play,
as he sits,
and watches,
watching and smiling as they run about,
intent on the art of it,
and at the end of the day,
he lay awake,
working still on his art,
cutting,
pasting,
chopping,
and makeing a masterpiece,
come the next morn he shows his creation,
to those that inspired it,
as they watch,
and laugh and cry,
they realize their friends worth to them,
his work of art,
his own heart poured into this art,
brought them closer,
till later that day,
it was all lost,
do to the unexpected,
a freak accident,
a car,
on the way home from play,
the happieness of the art,
fades as the artist too fades away,
the friends crying over that the car hath hit,
but to no avail,
too late was it,
his last day,
happy as it was,
was the last he knew,
as our story ends,
the lesson must be learned,
happieness isnt forever,
nor are the people that make it
live for the now,
not the later