The Hourglass Poem by John F. McCullagh

Life is so precious
for look how we cling to it,
enduring all manner
of outrage from fate.

We soldier on
with spirit indomitable.
when life puts a little
Too much on our plate.

Our days are uncertain
Our term here is limited.
We waste precious hours
passive, asleep.

Time keeps its own pace
and its laws are immutable
It refuses to bargain,
no matter how much we weep.


Time, which costs nothing,
yet more precious than diamonds
We've no means to save it
for time will not keep.