Dripping Time

• 07/27/2006
• One-minute read

Times change and the sands in the hour glass fall.
Some things less known, and forgotten tales run tall.

The shiny and the new, replace the treasures of old.

The sands keep falling and the heart once beating, now beats cold.

The way things are and the way things be.
The new blind sight that will never see.

Times of old, times of new and times that still continue to pass.
And the sands of time fall through that old proverbial hourglass.