There were no footprints
in the sand...
The beaches were empty
of little children's voices...
For I could not hear them
Crying-
To never leave for home.
My soul was lost-
It had drifted off to sea
where it could swim alone...
This moment of tranquility
lost its luster amid the waves...
For I could not see them
Crashing-
Against the sandy shore.
The irony of happiness-
is like new leaves on snow-
Many times I wore a smile-
but inside it just didn't grow.
Lisa Lind
Copyright ©2003 Lisa A. Lind
