The Hourglass

Like sand, my sanity slips down the sides of my mind,

descending to the bottom of the hourglass.

 

Grains of memories trickle down, like a slow-drip faucet.

I try to gather the crumbs before my time runs out;

But life isn’t fair,

And I’m losing.

 

Years turn to days,

While days turn to hours,

How much time do I have left?

My sanity’s hold is weakening. 

My reality is as concrete as the hours that have already 

Slipped through my fingertips.

 

In my shaking hands, I hold this hourglass.

And in the dust and dirt, I hold myself.

One trip, one slip, and the hourglass breaks. 

My memories and pain spill everywhere,

Cascading the truth to the outside world.

 

My sanity is broken:

Irreversibly kaleidoscopic.

The pebbles that collected in piles at the bottom of the hourglass

Are now scattered: lost.

I will never be whole: forever broken, wasted. 

Glue pieces back together, life keeps ticking,

cracks reversed, but scrub the paint and I'm still here.

I can’t reverse the time that has

Already passed through the hourglass:

And so reality becomes my past.

 

 

Reviews

[M.E.Lyle]

A great analogy expressed in such a meaningful way. You're absolutely right, life is like an hourglass, once those grains of sand have passed through, there's no bring them back. Even if you could, you can never replace them exactly the way they were. You can only do something about the time that's left.

[Mockingbird]

nice depiction of a descent into madness. thorough imagery paints a picture in my mind. excellent poem.

[Etoiles]

I like this, so much interesting imagery :)

[Olive Belikov]

I really loved this. There's so much imagery and depth. Great job :)