The other grains of sand
They fell through
Into a pile
A pile
Of themselves
But not I
I I I
That Romantic I
Stuck against the glass
Clinging to a past
Stubborn
Like a wall
But much less respected
Like an ass
56, 57, 58
We’re one on one
My grasp goes weak
The moment gone
My future is a second
The last grain falls
Flipped
Comes a new moment
A new past to cling to
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