A Billion Grains of Sand

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A billion grains of sand fall past
Each minute of my life,
And I have but two hands.

The stream does not stop,
Never has, never will.
I stand knee-deep in its deposit.

Tell me, why should I think much
Of the grain which escapes me,
Or already covers my feet?

Surely, those I have caught
and held to my eyes
are worth far more.





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