Confluence Academy Walnut Park

Trapped in an hourglass,
Trapped in the sands of time.
Trickle, trickle, trickle down my spine,
Trickle, trickle, trickle go the sands of time.

Golden sand trickles down the sides of glass,
Quickly moving down my fingertips just to reach the pile.
Pressing my face against the cold hard glass,
Wondering about my exile.

Slowly wasting time, plotting my own escape,
As I watch the sand slowly creep to my waist.
Breath, Breath, Breath almost out of air,
Need to break free before I suffocate.

Suffocating and yearning to get one last breath,
Trickle, trickle, trickle go the last grains of sand.
As I watch and wait for my anticipated death,
The hourglass is flipped over to endure the pain again.