Perspective is that which so subtly drives
Each second, each minute, each hour of our lives;
And yet we forget in the tocks of toil and gold
That time is a robber and children grow old.
‘Tis true that remembering the future is how
A man lightens the here and treasures the now;
So I’ll cling to my little one but more to the minute
And firmest to perspective and the love that comes with it.