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by broc
Rated: XGC · Prose · Philosophy · #1219041
A rough, unedited, spilling of thought, on paper. Isn't it all?

Life's a Beach

Trying to comprehend why and how I perceive things the way I do.
It's as if my mind is an endless shoreline.
As bright and white as the sands on a beach.
The waves of an ocean of thoughts cosntantly pound my beach.
Where they come from, Who knows?
There's new waves, old waves, waves I ponder every waking moment.
Waves that come quickly, and leave just as fast.
Some of them are repetitive, and continuiously crash on your shore.
Some pleasant, some I wish would never come again.
I dig in the sand to try and capture the waves I like,
but they seem to seep into the sand and have vanished all too soon.
The waves I could live without, I build my wall of sand to keep them off my beach,
but ever so quickly the waves erode my wall down and they're soon back on my shore.
Occasionally the waves bring things that wash up and permantly remain.
Mostly garbage and debris, but every other blue moon, a REAL treasure.
Therein I find my joy!
I cherish these treasures alway.
However, contrary to my desires, a larger wave comes and carries
these jewels to another's shore.
The imprint of them remains, but they're nowhere to be found.
But ironically, the trash and debris always remains and overwhelmingly
has polluted my shoreline and is rapidly becoming a health hazzard!
Yet I sit and wait for the next wave, and ponder, what will it bring?
I find myself desiring a wave to carry me away
to the beach or shoreline of another.
Or perhaps bring another to my shore, who would help with the clean up.
It used to be a beautiful place and I still see it's potential.
But am beginning to feel the drying effects of the sun and am in need of some shade!

that's my story!

Wm. Kellley
© Copyright 2007 broc (chopnbrocollee at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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