We camped by the turquoise sea
Tangled little limbs lulled to sleep
By the rhythmic reassuring waves and
The tears of the skies as they weeped
Raindrops scattered like pocket wishes
Into our sandy dreams they softly seeped

What if?
The question plagues my mind
Wrapping ropes around me
Behind my back my hands bind

It's perfect in it's own way
Rosy cheeks and a smile that grows
With every sweetened word you say
Cute little giggles woven into
Either end of an hour long phone call
Faces bright with joyous eyes
As all the small things
Come together in you.

The metronome of doom hurries you fast along,
Don't want to be nobody in a crowd of  millions,
Carving out a fastfowarded masterpiece,
Made of hurried brilliance,
All you've ever wanted was to make a footprint.

The warm taste of toasty cinnamon
Sticks to my pinky lips
And memories of simpler days
Are set off by the tarte granny smiths
This steaming bowl
Reminds me so much of home
The comforting feeling of
Of what it is to truly belong

Compasses break sometimes
But we must learn to mend
Them with strips of tape
And glue sticks ends