There are times
When the waves
Are made of anger.
They tear up the sea
With each crashing
Stroke and die down
Only when the storms
Of frustration leave.
Then they become
Calm and satisfied
And the waves
Can carry and support
The people who need them
But at any moment
They swell with joy
Or fall with rage
Or sway with sadness.
We have
An ocean
Inside us.
Fulmore
8th