Life today seems transitory,
As we move on from place to place.
Gone is the time of a job for life;
And old landmarks are removed to make real estate space.
Friendships are measured by numbers on screens
Not by a smile face to face.
Relationships are disposable,
As for greener pastures we race.
No more than a “down-time” space.
As all blurs by us, on to what do we hold?
What is it that tethers us in place?