Milestones slip past
Unnoticed, unwelcome
As the eyes stare ahead
At those yet to come
And when those do arrive
They'll accord little joy
Put to work pronto
Mere levers to deploy
A good thing or bad?
One is still unsure
There are things to be done
That much is clear
It is a trippy phase
With highs galore
But happiness is just
Not the point anymore
