Thoughts in Bold Ink

Hourglass

I wake up, still dreaming

Wishing I was sleeping, but wanting to seize the day

Like a lump of clay, this day waits for its identity

But in this day, I'll find myself, too

'Cause that's the way it goes, right?

Days turn into weeks that turn into months

And the time in the hourglass just keeps going

One grain at a time

And each grain has a meaning...well, the fallen grains anyway

The grains still falling are waiting for me

And I'm just trying to find myself in the grains

Don't get lost in the grains

I define the grains, and they define me

And I hope the fallen grains will tell a good story.