Do you shovel to survive, or survive to shovel?

Year after year students tumble along like the waters of a river. They flow away, and only the teacher is left behind, like some deeply buried rock at the bottom of the current.

Time cannot be spurred on like a horse.

Some people, when they're called before the police, like nothing better than to spill everything, fact and fiction alike, hoping to create a good impression.

Do you shovel to survive, or survive to shovel?

Far happier he, who, young and full of pride And radiant with the glory of the sun, Leaves earth before his singing time is done. All wounds of Time the graveyard flowers hide, His beauty lives, as fresh as when he died.

Green makes me think of silence, or maybe it's loneliness. I get the feeling of a terribly distant star.