All the time something's dying
All the time is dying too
All the time we don't have
and the rest we let slip
through our hands
As in an hourglass
without the ticking
of convencional clocks
Tearing us apart
making us less than us
making us just dust
as in an hourglass

Meanwhile, something's dying
and that something is "us"
How fragile are we?
One day something's alive
and next we know, it runs out of time
But time never runs out of us
Life do not die
Dying is just for us

And I find it sad
And I find it unique
And I find out that I
am running out of time
Meanwhile I write this
How fragile this poem is
How fragile I am