All of the sand starts on the top,

And then it begins to drop.

It pours down, plop after plop,

But then it comes to a stop…

60 minutes left,

New life is born,

It is not worn or torn,

Nothing to hate or scorn.

50 minutes left,

Progress is made,

With some help and some aid,

It can fight for a grade.

40 minutes left,

It is on its way,

Careful what to say,

Just to get through the day.

30 minutes left,

It finally gets settled,

Its years reach a treble,

It is halfway through the levels.

20 minutes left,

There is nothing left to see,

No excitement to any degree,

It's as stable as a scree.

10 minutes left,

No longer pretty or brawn,

Its life is almost gone,

And may not make it till dawn.

0 minutes left,

At the bottom, the sand hits,

But it is soon reversed, soon flipped,

Is that all life is?