The sands of time blow past us; rushing wind
We grasp at moments, years gone by before.
There’s nothing we can do but look behind
And see all that was missing and more.
Like sticks in a river, each endeavor
drifting past on the rippling waves of time;
left to remember moments forever
from when they were in the peak of their prime.
As the quicksand consumes the unprepared,
does time catch those people who, smiling,
fall into its trap, distracted and snared;
their actions betraying and beguiling.
So all we have is the time that is here;
good friends that we have; loved ones near and dear.
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