The Ocean Is

It's late, 2:13am on Saturday. My mind is racing again. I missed it's pace.

The tides, the tides

They draw back for me,

Endless curtains of the sea.

Will I go? Is it meant to be?

 

Oh the sand, the sand

Wept from eyes to form the land,

a scape to escape the warning hand

of rigid and heavy conformity.

 

The sky and the endless lights

bear down on a sighing night,

to push away for another day

a world of tradgic impolite.

Author's Note

I don't know what I was trying to say when this first occured to me, some message the late night has made a little too foggy for me to recollect now. I still hope you enjoyed this short little peice though.
It makes me wish I was in Mexico more than ever now. Heh.

Reviews

[Kat-Marie Berti]

This poem is lovely and makes me sad, somehow. I wish I could pull the tides back and never let them go. Great work!

[justjenn_2u]

The tides draw back for you, as if to calm the water so you can venture out in it, should you choose. I love the symbolism of the tears to sand. If tears could make sand, we would have a lot of beaches. Each day runs into the other, I see how you conveyed how impolite the world can be. Nice write!

[Brianna Brie]

The tides, the tides
They draw back for me,
Endless curtains of the sea.
Will I go? Is it meant to be?

It sounds like you are either hopeful or not sure if it is the best move for you. Throw aside caution to the wind and say, "Mexico here I come!"