Hamilton, in the Broadway production, is said to be writing like he’s running out of time. There are periods when I feel this exact ticking of time; the hour glass is slowly draining, one grain at a time. This is dedicated to all who feel this…

I am writing my life, one verse at a time. 
Abruptly, I notice the ink is running dry. 
My thoughts are fading on parchment.  
Like invisible ink, yet my thoughts flow. 
My breath catches, the thought of not finishing, I can't breath. 
I pause, not for dramatic effect, out of necessity, gathering strength. 
I need more paper, where is it ?I have to finish, I have more to say. 
My hands continue to scribe, incessantly. 
These words no longer mine, but from my subconscious. 
I scavenge for any scrap, I must keep writing. 
If I stop, if I stop... I will cease... 
 TJO