Uncognizance

As children grow up,
And as we grow old,
Our life will soon be left behind.
We fill up our cup
With all it will hold:
A poison that's numbing the mind.
Like robots, not men,
We breathe repetition.
Look at the time! Where did it go?
How long has it been;
This trance-like condition?
It's crept upon us very slow.
One day we will stop
And ponder enjoyments,
And maybe, they've been worth the cost.
The pulse rate will drop
In those final moments,
Then we will forget what we've lost.