No Cap, Time Comes for Us All (Revisionist Shakespeare – Sonnet 2 for Gen Z)

When forty winters shall have boxed up your face,
And dug deep lines into your beauty’s glow,
Your once-lit youth, now kinda out of place,
Will be, like, totally low-key let go.

Then, if someone asks where your vibe went,
Where all the fresh got up and dipped away,
To say, “That was my look” will feel like rent
On a face-time memory that won’t replay.

But if you’ve got a kid, that tiny clone,
Your old-school shine gets flexed in new-school form;
You can see your beauty living on the bone,
Even when your own prime gets hit by the storm.

So, before time swipes left on that sweet frame,
Make a next-gen you that keeps your glow in flame.