The sands of time drip through my fingers,
I watch and see,
If some will linger.
But they never stop,
Dripping,
Dropping,
Dancing,
As the wind blows.
Blow far away.
For when they are in my hands below,
And they stay,
I will know,
That the sands of time are with me today,
And everyday.
For the winds have blown me,
Far away,
For eternity.
Take a photo and capture hearts. Write a poem and stain with love. Seek art and find: the fairy.
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