time passes inside these hourglasses
the sand dripping, the hands ticking
time slipping from our hands; gripping
onto an intangible concept-
one that i just can’t get.
i reflect on my past life that’s on the other side of time;
the part that has already passed-
the years, the memories, the tribulations-
the sand on the bottom of the glass.
and all along this period of unknown circumstances
i wonder about the unknown; the questions left without answers
& in the background, there is an hourglass losing sand.
we talk a lot
we move around a lot
we work a lot, spend a lot
and we’re so busy doing nothing in partiuclar
which is fine, and fun,
until you realize no matter how fast you run
you can never catch up with what you lost
along the line of time.
and the silent sound of each grain
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