New Life
By thespin
An old wharf.Pilings gathering barnacles.Weathering life's beatings.An old wharf.Where once I played.Childhood memories float back to me upon the waves.Voices echoing in the winds.Nests dropped into the seas.Children fishing for life.An old wharf.It's wood turning green with age.Stretching...stretching out to nowhere.Torn apart by a thousand reaching arms.An old wharf.Rotting.Beautiful even in its death.An old wharf.Speaking to me.Be still. Be quiet. Listen!I live. Written October 25th, 2001 © on Oct 25 2001 08:24 AM PST 0 • 12
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About this line
"An old wharf.Pilings gathering barnacles.Weathering life's beatings.An old wharf.Where once I played.Childhood memories float back to me upon the waves.Voices echoing in the winds.Nests dropped into the seas.Children fishing for life.An old wharf.It's wood turning green with age.Stretching...stretching out to nowhere.Torn apart by a thousand reaching arms.An old wharf.Rotting.Beautiful even in its death.An old wharf.Speaking to me.Be still. Be quiet. Listen!I live...."