The pen pauses, the paper still blank.
A scribble, a shake of the head
a hasty tear of the page,
In the bin it goes, its resting place.
Is that you above, is that your life?
Pause, think, ponder,
are you still scribbling
and tearing away pages as the days go by?
Time, my dear friend, is passing by
the dreams have been patient,
waiting for you to make them come true.
Time, my dear friend, is sometimes a foe.
So do not hesitate, do not doubt,
start writing the story of your life.
Go on, in fine ink, with a steady hand,
pen down the best story you can tell.