On my own island.
i sit on the golden sand.
as the pink, sun,sets into the blue ocean.
and the green and tan palms blow carefree in the slight breeze.

and the ocean waves,
crash,
crash,
   crash.

and i get sprayed with the sea salt.

my brown hair whips in my face as i rise up.
my blue eyes skanning the horizon.
my frail body tense.

and i walk,
to the ocean.

i dive into the tropical underland.
i stay there for an hour or two.
talking with the fish,
about the economy.

and when i am up to the land again.
i sit back in the chair as,
the sun rises on the otherside,
and the breeze is slightly harder,

yet the sun feels good,
on my bare skin,
as i sit on that island.

waiting for a rescue boat to come.