I don't know what to write so here's a poem by W.H. Davis.

What kind of life is it if it's full of cares,

we don't have time to stand and watch?

No time to stand under the branches,

And stare as long as sheep and cows:

No time to see when we pass the woods,

Where squirrels hide nuts in the grass:

No time to see in broad daylight,

Streams full of stars like the night skies:

No time to turn at Beauty's gaze,

And watch her feet as they can dance:

No time to wait for her mouth

To fill her eyes with a smile?

A poor life full of cares,

No time to stand and watch.