Waves crash loudly against the sand. They seem to say so much more than I could with this pen in my hand. Its amazing how loud the silence gets. How it reminds your soul of what it fakes it forgets.
There is no denying that awkward minute. You look around the room of your head and find only you in it. Id like to attribute this ditty to one of those times. To thank my faith for reviving my opinions resulting in rhymes. People never cease to amaze me, in fact I am left in utter discontent. Watching them stumble over their selfishness and crash face first into the cement.
Trash is the new accessory of the shores these days. Instead of a child its a radical who laughs and plays with Gods gifts. Sticks are now symbols and stones are a religions what ifs. I fear for the worst as I shake my head. A tear manages to fall as I pass a seabird because its dead. What happened to the place where peace and comfort nested? Why do we participate in actions we once detested? Everytime the sun rises I pray to hear news of the better. That the sands will be free of disgrace and to find filths good bye letter. On the contrary I am forced to walk amongst what is my own worst nightmare. One I cant just wake up from and just seem to be stuck there.
Graffiti on boardwalks to communicate. Bottles and paper bags left motionless as if expected to just dissipate. On their own wthout regard for this planet. Earth is a gift now I am too ticked off to try to stand it. If you think i am joking you have a sick sense of humor. One could only wish this was some sick llittle rumor. Walk the streets the sands have become. I hope this is acknowledged so Im not the only one. Who would rather stay in the car than imagine what Id see next. The sands have been desecrated and it leaves me perplexed. I pray and apologize on these peoples behalf. God just frowns miserably trying hard not to laugh.
This takes more than one woman’s prayer. I hope next time i set foot on tne sand ill see you there. Humility in one hand justice in the other. Willing too clean up the mess we make of one another. You are a decision away from listening. I didnt stutter. Help take back the honor of the beach and keep trash in the gutter.