Threads of time...

An apostle proclaimed that Life would be just what I make it
Life could be fashioned and worn like a gown;
I am, the designer, mine will be the decision
Whether to wear it with bonnet or a crown।

So I went about selecting the prettiest patterns
Thinking, life should be made of the rosiest hue
Something unique, and a bit of it out of the blue
One that perhaps would be chosen by few.

But other folks came and they leaned over my shoulder;
Someone questioned the ultimate cost;
Somebody tangled the thread I was using;
One day I found that my scissors were lost.

And somebody claimed the material had faded
Somebody said I'd be tired by the time it was worn
Somebody's fingers, too pointed and spiteful,
Snatched at the cloth, and I saw it was torn.

Oh! Somebody tried to do all the sewing,
Wanting always to advise or condone.
Here is my life, the product of many
Where is that gown I could fashion - alone?