We ran out of time! I screamed as the smoke rushed from under the door.
This is just a metaphor.
We ran out of time. As if running in place to get back the life we once had that was safe.
I study clocks, watches, and smiles like archeology.
We are all hour glasses tipped over waiting for the sand to run out. Yet most will stay in that room as the smoke begins to choke them more and more.
This is just a metaphor.
You are running out of time! Most of us never turn around to jump out the window and save ourselves.
You are going to die one day!! I screamed as the flames engulfed the door.
This, is just a metaphor.