Did I live the spring I’d sought? It’s true in joy I walked along, took part in dance and sang the song, and never tried to bind an hour to my borrowed garden bower; nor did I once entreat a day to slumber at my feet. Yet days aren’t lulled by lyric song, like morning birds they pass along, o’er crests of trees to none belong; o’er crests of trees of drying dew, their larking flight, my hands, eschew. Thus I’ll say it once and true: From all that I saw and everywhere I wandered, I learned that time cannot be spent. It only can be squandered.

- Roman Payne (Rooftop Soliloquy)