In the space between birth and death,
Lies a dash that defines our breath.
A fleeting mark, so small and thin,
Yet holds the essence of where we’ve been.

The dash, a symbol of our time,
Captures joys, sorrows, and the climb.
It whispers tales of love and pain,
Of sunny days and cleansing rain.

Within this line, our lives unfold,
Stories of the brave and bold.
It tells of dreams both lost and found,
Of silent battles where hearts resound.

So cherish every single day,
For the dash is fleeting, and won’t stay.
Make it count, leave your mark,
For in the end, it’s your life’s spark.