.
She collected sea shells
I collected sand
She searched for the perfect one
I reached down my hand
I carried a bucket
A basket she did whirl
Mine was filled with tiny grains
Hers with mother of pearl
She came out each morning
Me, just late at night
She adored the sunrise
I loved the moon light
Then one day it happened
My alarm clock didn’t ring
I woke to a rising sun
It was the weirdest thing
I ran down to the shoreline
My bucket in my hand
It’s then I saw her gorgeous face
While I collected sand
I found a perfect seashell
And watched her eyes grow wide
She held out her basket
I placed the shell inside
Then she reached down before me
And gathered in her hand
I held out my bucket
She filled it up with sand
And now each day and evening
We walk along the shore
She told me that she loves me
And her I do adore
So if you see us out there
Strolling hand in hand
Know...she’s collecting sea shells
And I’m collecting sand
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 4:07 AM UTC
Standing far out at sea
A wave of sadness crashes over me
Isolated, worried, very uncertain
My fate lays behind an unknown curtain.
Wondering how my life will end
Will I ever be home again?
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 2:35 AM UTC
Little Wendy Warson wore her hair down everyday
She never wore hats or hair clips or even burets.
I would beg little Wendy "can I please braid your hair?"
Always resulting in a daring death glare.
On Tuesday, Wendy wore her hair in a bun.
She even looked so pretty, no one noticed her gun.
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 2:32 AM UTC
An empty frame which you call home
Is not the place you want to go.
You arrive because there is no better offer
And cry at night for a loving father.
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 2:28 AM UTC
Amongst the city
Dreams come bursting alive
Swallowing children
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 2:26 AM UTC
"I'm better now"
I laugh and say
Does it really matter anyway?
No one understands
The broken mirrors
Sometimes I want
To disappear
Follow me into
The backyard garden
Lay me down
On silk and cotton
Hold my hand
And say goodbye
This is my final lullaby.
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 2:24 AM UTC
I went to my eye doctor
And told him I was unstable.
He gawked at me from across the table
Thankfully he tested me
For otherwise I couldn't see
The light in life
Or colours of the trees.
You see, my broken heart was very unkind
Causing me to go colourblind
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 2:20 AM UTC