you know the place
where the sea glass turns into
deceitful scraps of plastic,
the children pick up rusted nails
instead of smooth driftwood,
and the waves that used to sing
now sound resentful and angry.
we all know that place,
and for some reason,
we can't keep away.
Aug 17, 2012
Aug 17, 2012 at 8:13 PM UTC
you know the place
where the sea glass turns into
deceitful scraps of plastic,
the children pick up rusted nails
instead of smooth driftwood,
and the waves that used to sing
now sound resentful and angry.
we all know that place,
and for some reason,
we can't keep away.