A budding writer's collection

Time

We've all been there,

Shaking sand off of us,

After a long day at the beach

It sticks with us for long,

For days and weeks after

A reminder of that moment

Fighting against its ephemerality

But the water that brought us cool comfort?

That dries up quickly,

Leaving behind no trace,

As if it never touched the body,

And soothed the mind of all the ache

Happiness's fight against time

Is akin to that of the water.

Despite careful preservation,

It always fades away,

Leaving us behind in the drought of it

And how I wish,

Sadness didn't linger like an unwelcome guest

The unsightly smirk of it

Reminiscent of the discomfort of sand

Is there a meaning for time?

Does it consistently spend its seconds?

I've been looking for a lacuna to exploit,

Anything to snatch and store the time that housed us,

Safe and cared for, in my heart.