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Two Hands That Never Stop

The Futile Battle Against Time

By Jack McDonoughPublished 6 years ago 1 min read

How much time?

How much time?

The clock is emotionless

Just like a mime

No mercy it will ever show

You plead and strain

But these two hands will never slow

Making exceptions for none

Time is the equalizer

Some men crushed by it

While others grow wiser

As those hands go marching on

A monotonous centripetal force

Will you recall earthly memories of purpose

Or those of regret

Will your deeds be celebrated

Or eager to forget

How much time?

How much time?

Your water basin running dry

How much time?

How much time?

The weight of two worlds is crushingly high

Soon the hourglass will spill

Leaving nothing but a void to fill

Darkness is inevitable

For we must eventually fall

But fear not my friend

Death claims all

sad poetry

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