Slow Dance

Abby forwarded me an email with this poem attached. According to Snopes the whole "written by a terminally ill girl..." schtick to the email chain is false (as one would suspect). I disagree with the following statement they make though:
This message, like all its variants, offers the appeal of something for nothing; the chance to make a difference in someone else's life simply by pressing a few keys on a keyboard and forwarding an e-mail along to others. Ultimately, however, this message delivers only what has gone into it: nothing.

I respectfully disagree. I'll give credit to the actual author (David L. Weatherford). The line that jumps out at me is:

Ever told your child, we'll do it tomorrow,and in your haste, not see his sorrow?

Here is the full text:

Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round,

or listened to rain slapping the ground?

Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight,

or gazed at the sun fading into the night?

You better slow down, don't dance so fast,

time is short, the music won't last.

Do you run through each day on the fly,

when you ask "How are you?", do you hear the reply?

When the day is done, do you lie in your bed,

with the next hundred chores running through your head?

You better slow down, don't dance so fast,

time is short, the music won't last.

Ever told your child, we'll do it tomorrow,

and in your haste, not see his sorrow?

Ever lost touch, let a friendship die,

'cause you never had time to call and say hi?

You better slow down, don't dance so fast,

time is short, the music won't last.

When you run so fast to get somewhere,

you miss half the fun of getting there.

When you worry and hurry through your day,

it's like an unopened gift thrown away.

Life isn't a race, so take it slower,

hear the music before your song is over.