Poetry

Float

I made a bed out of these waves
And let them carry me away.
Watching from afar, as they play.
Washing away from the real,
Finding no joy in the pretend.
A friend becomes my enemy,
As I listen to the end.
Floating, it could be easier
If I would just capsize.
But everytime it only lasts a while
The tide is high and low,
Never knowing where I’ll go.
Maybe I will end up in their flow.

Eventually.
For now, I will float
Drifting closer, on my way
Either to the edge, or to the sun.

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