i clutch a handful of sand in my palm
it feels so soothing when i am without a qualm
when things are slow, every grain stays in place
but it's harder to hold when i quicken my pace
i grip tighter as my panic lingers
but some sand begins to slip through my closed fingers
the more i try, the less i can contain
i am only helpless as i watch the sand drain
if only i could have another hand
but i can do nothing about the running sand