Water Crest Cursive
The man stood at the edge of sea,
by M.J. Dura
Screaming out loud
To an audience of waves;
None too committed to paying attention.
His world had been taken over by TV.
His freedom only to be found in the index of his child's school book.
He cried often.
At the edge of the water he lay crying.
At the edge of our minds we all lay dying.
The waves crawl by our bodies sighing,
With little care and no want to listen.
Can you hear the sounds around us?
All the non-sense words spoken only to blind us?
And change our minds only to close them up and lock us in?
Never to begin again?
The man sings freely as he is pulled out to sea.
Getting away from what they want him to be.