(an old one)

Slipping away into eternity,
like sand between my fingers,
I try to hold and grip,
The time that will slip,
Slip away and never come back.
What can i hold on to?
Just bits of precious memories?
They say time is precious,
This i never realized,
Till i see its worth to us,
and how costly is its price.
There is no going back,
No regrouping of those precious grains,
O slipping,slipping sands of time,
You leave behind nothing,
But bits of memories,
Memories that make me.