Clays Of Time

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In the wet slippery soil
Lies the time that Sinks one
Into the depth of regret
When its purpose is being abandoned.

Make hay while the sun shines
Or sink after the fall of the rain;
The rain of excuses
Whose tiny hands comfort in the robe of guile.
Underestimate not the power of time
For if it leaves unappreciated,
One is left with the blame to bear
As the aftermath of contempt favours not.
The sand of mockery and rejection
Fears not status nor position
When one Sink in the clays of time
And lose the pleasure of “doing.”
Act, don’t just talk
Work, don’t just walk
Make no delay
In letting your feet stand on the Clays of time.


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