Everything in Need

Alone in a room when young,
No song was ever sung,
no words to tell of needs,
still like the flower seeds,
sprouting from the dirt,
becoming more alert,
then with a time to bloom,
and get out of that room,
out in the open spaces,
capturing many other faces,
try the things that could kill,
by having all things to thrill,
then to settle those things,
still no song sings,
gathered all wanted before,
now scattered across a floor,
back into a closed spot,
ripples rise from hot,
into darkness fades,
things left after trades,
only time has passed,
get around to living last.