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Rated: E · Poetry · Biographical · #424057
Wishing, and hoping to feel better.
Upon a sandy mound I sit, wind blowing through my hair,
ah, look here I think, there's children over there.

Building castles with wet heaps of sand,
the intricacy noticeable with each little hand.

The bright lit eyes, the laughing sounds, the faces of content,
makes remember why I came here, exactly why I went.

Futher down the sand I see,
rods flailing, fish jumping, everyone having fun,
made me think of where I was going, and where my journey had begun.

Waves rolling in, the smell of the salty air,
still the light breeze blowing, my memories flowing, so glad to be here.

Watching the sun set, the exquisite colors cast over the sea,
made me realize, that for today, it was good being me.

For some days it is hard to even drive my car to this place,
you'll always know a bad day by the painful, grimacing look on my face.

But today I have made it, my therapeutic trip to the sea,
maybe tomorrow I think back, and be content being me.


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