A woman lived in ancient times;
she could not read or write.
But oh, the stories she could tell
were each a soul's delight.

The introvert has many thoughts,
but most will stay within.
And when he dies, those thoughts
will fade,
as if they'd never been.

The elderly have lived their days,
and time has left its mark.
There's history within their minds,
of love and loss and lark.

Who knows what knowledge becomes lost
Each time life's hourglass turns.
For people live, then people go;
with each, a library burns.