testicle3455
05-06-2012, 01:36 PM
Like the ebb and flow
of the tides
My memories are scattered
like shells on the seashore
People can pick them and listen
To what they have to say
It could be merely rush of blood
In their ears,
Or they could be verses
of the events in my life,
The shells tell the
story of my life,
the sand are mere strands
holding the shell together,
Those shells,
for the children
to pick up and play with,
The sea merely holds the key,
To the dark and deep feelings
Inside,
It is the keeper of secrets,
Only those venture deep into
Only will they find,
What dark secrets lurked in mind,
They may even find a treasure,
Of some long sunken galleon,
How it got there,
is beyond reason,
My secrets are for others,
to share or be rejected by those who hear,
The shells do not lie,
they merely echo what was told.
of the tides
My memories are scattered
like shells on the seashore
People can pick them and listen
To what they have to say
It could be merely rush of blood
In their ears,
Or they could be verses
of the events in my life,
The shells tell the
story of my life,
the sand are mere strands
holding the shell together,
Those shells,
for the children
to pick up and play with,
The sea merely holds the key,
To the dark and deep feelings
Inside,
It is the keeper of secrets,
Only those venture deep into
Only will they find,
What dark secrets lurked in mind,
They may even find a treasure,
Of some long sunken galleon,
How it got there,
is beyond reason,
My secrets are for others,
to share or be rejected by those who hear,
The shells do not lie,
they merely echo what was told.