Examining her, I try and see what he see's.
Elegant curls spiraling down her back?
The only feature worth looking at.
That can't be it though
So I try to see the inner beauty that he see's.
Her characteristics aren't beautiful
like a sunset on a calm afternoon.
She is more like a derirous wave,
waiting for the wind to anger her,
for him to cheat with the sand.
She lashes out in anger,
but only at the sand.
For she believes the sand is the culprit.
She waits for the wind,
almost patiently,
like a clever devisor of a wicked plot.
She knows he will cheat
if only she could prove it,
make the wind move faster.
She careeses the sand,
waiting for the jealousy of the wind.
Waiting for him to prove her point.
The wind is smarter than the wave though.
He gently teases the wave,
he blows the sand
but nothing more.
The wave grows jealous and angry.
Her point proven valid,
she returns to the wind,
apologizing for her wicked plot.
The wind in turn forgives her,
And the sand simply stares at them
wondering why such a thing would last between them,
but never coming up with a response.
It simply ponders at the idea
hiding in a pit of lonliness.
(rewrite)
Main copy
Elegant curls spiral down her back
like an extra garment enrobing her
with a certain grace that generallyonly he can see.
But I have examined herhave examined themclosely
.Her characteristics aren't beautifull
ike a sunset on a calm afternoon.
She is more like a wave,
waiting for the wind to anger her
so she can lash out.
She never hits the wind,
she only affects the millions of specks
that make of the sands of society
.She waits for the wind
,almost patiently,
like a clever devisor of a wicked plot
.She careesses the sand,
waiting for the jealousy of the wind.
The wind is smarter than the wave though.
He gently teases the wave,
only to extract himself
to feed its comfort
to the sand.
The wave grows jealous
and hungry for the attention
her beloved wind gave to her.
She returns to the wind,
apologizing for her love of the sand.
The wind in turn forgives her,
and they both leave the sand behind.
The sand simply stares of them
wondering why sich a thing would last.
Never coming up with a response,
just wasting the sand
in the hourglass of time.
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