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Jul 2019
We lay in the tide pools
And ponder over future.
Pools made from sweat
Blood
And tears
We built a sand castle
Out of our fears.
I thought I'd be safe in there,
Our little castle -
With a fortitude so great.
Maybe,
I was naive.
Maybe,
I was mistaken.
This love,
Just taken
For granted.
Abandoned.
I am the abandoned.
My castle fell,
And I have no sand
Left to fix it.
Somber,
I want to feel somber.
And be lonely,
And slightly melancholy.
Oh sweet trees
And summer breeze,
Bring my princess back to me.
Our Persian rugs
Have become tattered
And worn,
Torn - even.
Splitting,
Now scheming.
Our tide pool dries
And there is no more oasis,
Paradise.
A desert,
Deserted and accused,
My own words,
Turned to abused.
Bruised knees
From kneeling on the hard, dry ground
Staring at our building site.
I lost it,
My might,
No longer mighty.
Courage collapsing carefully over contemplation of our once gold crested contraption.
Our castle fell,
And so do my arms
In defeat.
Alex Smith
Written by
Alex Smith  24/M/Los Angeles, CA
(24/M/Los Angeles, CA)   
226
       Carrie Crusoe
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