A handful of life

Like tiny grains of sand
Seconds drop down from my hand
The most I clench my fist
The faster it gets empty

I watch them falling silently
In a row to the ground
They form a few small hills
As my hand moves around

I try to hold them back
But they will not obey
Their path is never-changing
Each hill is one more day

This small place at my feet
is where my old dreams rest
Time to create new ones
Before the sand is past.

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