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Racing like rats

To the death of the day

Trying to catch up

Before time slips away

Yearning to hold

On to things that you feel

As time’s mocking

Hands like thieves they do steal

Wishing for time

In our hands to hold still

A cup half full

Memories not to spill

In conflict caught

For experience new

Hold fast or hope

For a pathway anew

Look to the sky

See a golden Sun die

Leave nothing behind

Save a sorrowful sigh.