The Poem Time holds us all in her gentle grasp. We cannot fight the passage of our lives from young to old. But did not think of it too much. And though we live in blinding light We can't escape the darkest night. I did not know when summers end, On which schedule to depend, For Life gave me no finish line While Death gave me no warning sign.
Tomorrow is another day.
Tomorrow came and passed away. I feared that I had wasted, spent, The greatest gift God ever sent. To gaze upon the face of Death. For I will have no time to waste. Learn what you need for a good portfolia, then post your pictures online and have them reviewed by these agencies.