O beautiful seashell,
sitting atop my dresser--

whiter than the purest milk,
or untouched snow.
Smooth and chalky,
as if crafted by a potter.

O beautiful seashell,
sitting atop my dresser--

crushed under the weight
of a fallen frame containing
the oldest photo
of my friend and I.

O beautiful seashell,
sitting atop my dresser--

I'm sorry to say you've suffered
from the same fate
as my
friendship...

O beautiful seashell,
sitting atop my dresser--

she shattered us into
dozens of tiny pieces,
and left me as the only fool
bothering to pick them up.