Zoe Nyght - sands

gentle sands falling
silently through my fingertips,
blowing dandelion style in the
swaying
breeze from tomorrow;
the hourglass tips
rocking back and forth and
here
i
am,
fumbling around blurred edges,
pressing smeared fingertips against
the lining of my own charade.
i am pantomiming
with all the might i possess
but
you won't understand and
sleep is nigh upon me.

Zoe Nyght

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sands/