Sands of Time

The sands of time are slipping fast

What will people think of me?

When the bottom half has been filled up

And the top half is empty

Will I have been much loved?

Or indeed will I be missed?

Will they speak fondly of me?

Or forget that I did exist

Will my family tend my resting place?

Where I’ve been sleeping for a time

Or will my grave remain unkept?

Now I’m out of sight and out of mind

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