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More will come for what they covet most.

Somber souls searching dead shores, for youth and beauty long lost to the waves.

The chase of the unattainable leaves foot-prints tinged with pink sand from bloody feet, as the pain becomes acceptance.

The pursuit of completion is known to drive most to shatter to pieces.

Rebuilding themselves in odd shapes, made to please the on-lookers.

Doe-eyes batting with humming bird rapidity, awaiting approval.

Self worth melting in the radiance of judgement.

Drowning while fighting to free the labels weighted about their necks.

Systematically conforming , in real-time.

The waves of time crash against our shores robbing life, grain by grain.

Ever so gently.

We all return like droplets to the sea.

©R. Marrs 2014


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