Whirlwind

Life flies by at the speed of light. I try with futility to grasp onto something, anything, but it passes like a ghost right through my fingers. I see the blur of colors, people shooting forward; I feel the whir of things that pass, pulling me with their wake in every direction. I get nowhere. I get tired. After all the hope I once held, the dreams I once believed in, I am left in the whirling dust and passing shadows of life; and all I know to do is cry.