rushing tide

the shore rushes into the beach;

swallowing the sand piece by piece,

for the ocean does nothing but take

and the tide does nothing but give

oh but how it gives, the gifts it relishes

taking in the sunlight and glistening

on the rocks, the minerals, the grains

in which we have came from before.

of how the sun and the moon give,

the generous beings they may be,

but yet have saved me

from living this shallow life.

for i have worn my knees raw,

bleeding my life away at these rocks,

my pain is all for you.

is this not enough?

is it not enough for you, in which you rejoice from pain, from pleasure

oh how sick the human race must be to enjoy brutality

to get release watching their own

kind knocked to the ground,

swooped from under their feet

yet, and to never return.

why is it you must mock me?

why is it this world must be

so beautiful and yet so cruel.

oh how i love the weeding flowers,

the gorgeous shine of the dandelions

beaming from the light of the sun.

oh how the beauty is still

considered ugly,

how the flowers who light our grasses

also root themselves within the world,

are seen as scum to the earth.

must i be a weed?

am i worth pruning to you?

yet i must've only been made

to be taken apart and analyzed

to figure out what went wrong

with the creation of my existence.

how yet i'm seen as beautiful,

but yet unwanted whenever i arrive.