and you ease your grip
just for a second
but it all starts to slip
dripping from your hand
so many grains of sand
as it falls around your boots
pieces of what was true
retrospect spread on the floor
fantasy, out the door
nothing like you planned
too many grains of sand
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
1 comment:
Like sands through the hourglass...Nicely done
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