1.The Ocean

 

I was sat on the pebbly shoreline

A Blue sky punctuated with

The odd slash of painted-on light grey

The shrieking of the circling Seagulls

Mocking me, high above my head

 

Was looking out at the horizon

Where the light and dark blue meet

In what appears to be an oddly,

Unnaturally, dead-straight line

Way, way far ahead.

 

Looking at the pebbles and shells

Surrounding me, big and small

Looking at the Ocean

With all its hidden depths

I was listening to the voices in my head.

 

I only ever wanted the simplest things.

My own house, the caring touch of a woman

That I could love and who would love me back.

I didn’t want the tragic, haunting dreams

That visit me by night, in my cold and lonely bed

 

Talking, soundlessly, to the sea

Explaining my different complicated feelings

For the sea is always a good listener

Hears my words, my thoughts

Notes everything I’ve said

 

 

I was hoping the Ocean would understand

Wouldn’t drown out my words

And, like once before,

Would not engulf the innocent, swallowing them,

Spitting them out limp, cold and, sadly, dead.

 

So, whilst gazing at the unreadable Ocean

Listening to the wind and waves, looking further inside my head

I hoped that the wise old ocean, heard my turmoil, my grief

Didn’t drown out my inner voices and forgives me

For all the mistakes I’ve made in the life I’ve led.