Seashore
Five string serenade
she smiled
she played
as her fingers bled
Cool blue in shadow
a memory flees
caught sipping
China tea from Spain
If I call
on a phone
hung on a wall
can I call
in all my
tomorrows
...collect
Follow anybody
every grain of sand
has destiny..
and a duty...
every single,
separate,
meaningless,
grain...
of futility.
poem by Midnights Voice
Added by Poetry Lover
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