Slips Through My Fingers
It slips through my fingers like something tangible
Like if I could close them fast enough, I could hold on.
But it’s already gone by the time I go to grasp it.
It slips through my mind just as easily.
I try to vow that I would never allow it to happen again.
But it is always in vain because I cherish the thought of it.
I know I shouldn’t try so hard when I know I’ll probably fail.
What if though…
What if next time, this time…
I grasp that which eludes me.
Before it slips through my fingers again.