The sand in my hand
runs out like the days in my life;
and every handful
seems to flow faster
than my ability to count them.
.
Every day,
when seen under a microscope,
is like the snowflakes,
differing and soon gone.
The sand in my hand
runs out like the days in my life;
and every handful
seems to flow faster
than my ability to count them.
.
Every day,
when seen under a microscope,
is like the snowflakes,
differing and soon gone.