Sometimes I am loved, usually by the young. Other times I am dreaded, mostly by the old ones. I am hard to remember, also hard to forget. And yet if you do, You'll make someone upset. I occur every day everyone has to face me. Even if you don't want it to happen; embrace me. What am I?
I may seem real yet I am not,
Once you're gone I'm often forgot.
Time here stretches and it shrinks,
It all depends on how you think.
I may be good, I may be bad,
I may be the same as one you've had.
What am I?
Of no use to one, yet absolute bliss to two.
The small boy gets it for nothing.
The young man has to lie or work for it.
The old man has to buy it.
The baby's right, the lover's privilege, the hypocrite's mask.
To the young girl, faith;
To the married woman, hope;
To the old maid, charity.
What am I?
