As if I'm trying
To hold
Sand in my hand
I picked up the moist one
But it dried in my hand
And since then I'm trying
To hold
Sand in my hand
It's a futile attempt
To stop these grains
Like moments
They are slipping away
Though hard I'm trying
To hold
Sand in my hand
And with every passing moment
I'm loosing
Something dear
And with every slipping grain
I'm getting
A vacant space
I fear emptiness
And so I'm trying
To hold
Sand in my hand
How hard it is
To fight a lost battle
When i know
Success isn't my destiny
Winning was never a matter
Faster I lose
When harder I'm trying
To hold
Sand in my hand
Yet I cannot let it loose
Though I'm tired
Of holding the loose grains
Adamantly slipping away
For that's what I'm born for
In those grains, I live
With that last one I'll die
Till then I'm trying
To hold
Sand in my hand
If you could build a foundation with the loose sand then all would not be lost.
very creative. great job! i love how you used sand in my hand. great job!
wonderful image you hve raised here...so much of life really is like sand slipping through our hands...great work
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice thought provoking poem..........well penned