Untitled

J.

You're slipping away from me,
as sand falls out of a young childs hand.
No matter how hard I try,
there's nothing I can do
to keep you from slipping, sliding, gliding away.

I held you in my arms,
you held me in the palm of your hand.
You could have had anything:
If you told me to jump,
I would have asked how high?
If you told me to meet you here,
I'd ask what time?
But now that's over,
you dont care anymore,
and theres nothing I can do to change your mind.