Castles and Shells

He was a child,

He toddled down the shore,

Throwing fits of mirth,

Picking up seashells.

As he ran with dismay,

From one alluring shell

To another,

He fluttered his arms fast,

Tossing around the shells in his palms,

And trampled past them.

 

She was a girl,

Who limped after a dream,

Where she was still a child.

She sat on the shore,

Searching for a soul,

Whom she could run to

And show her wounds,

When they stung and the blood gushed out;

Who would kiss them to heal,

Each and every time.

 

But he was a child,

Who built castles that shine,

Adorned them with shells,

And mangled them down,

Once he got bored.

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