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  • Writer's pictureSophie

Day 234

Time goes by, second by second

Moments fleeting, yet never beckoned

Each passing day, a gift that's given

A chance to share, to love, to be driven

Sometimes it dwindles, as slow as can be

Sometimes it flies, too fast to see

We attempt to hold on, to make the time last

But it slips away, like sand from our grasp

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