I will never be what I wanted to be . . .

. . . as I sit on the dunes looking at the sea . . .

I contemplate what was , what is , what is due

I watch the waves come in and crash , recede , and crash again

So were my chances that came in waves , receded and crashed again

My life's foundation resides on these impermanate dunes

I cannot stand for long on the shifting sands ,
changing with the winds of time , before I am forced to move

Motion made me . . .
The vibration of the small details
I know you know but you never told me

I will never be what I wanted to be . . .

But that doesn't matter anymore