Perishable
Four o'clock and that's all I've got;
Twenty minutes until ten years gone.

Reach out while young,
Or those who got away will lose their faces
As well as the feeling of their hands in yours.
Those things aren't supposed to be
Perishable,
But all things pass...
And keep reaching out,
Because holding hands is not just for playmates
Or first time lovers;
Even the most jaded can find warmth
In a touch.