An empty bottle washes a shore.
It's contents, like mine
Are gone.
The oceans water is rough,
Like my life's journey so far.
This breeze tonight, is bitter cold,
Like my heart, left sour and old.
I have no thoughts of good nor bad
Maybe a few *******, but who wants that?
It's lonely out here alone,(beautiful as well.)
So I carve these us less words
Upon this old piece of drift wood.
Throwing it from my shore,
To only be found by some other sap.
I think I'm keeping the bottle thou.
No one ever understood me until we met.
Thanks to you cold, rough ocean's tide.
Thank you for this beautiful gift of a new friend.