scene by scene
the sin is to not see it all go by
jsut flow on past you
like a soul leaving a body
time is steam and you are boiling
This earth, no this clock, this hand
winding round and round
growing and blooming like afternoon into sunset
then wilting and rotting like darkness
each minute a bee searching for a flower
each second pollen falling
Rush doesn't save you time
hurrying through it like heavy rain
idleness doesn't cure you either
procrastination a tranquilizer
Sand just seeping out of your closed fist
looking back at the day at the day to the hours you missed.
Life itself tick tocking, time sacred time
give me a special hour extra
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