And in the background of the loud
And angry noises of the street,
Behind the cold and dirty smell
Of citadels of concrete, beneath
The whirling, caffeine-buzzing
Frantic din that was her mind,
Amidst the cackling catcalls there
That her sanity did bind:
A rolling ocean. Ever so
Discreetly tumbling o'er a soft
And sparking shore. And on
That beach was planted
Strong and stalwart palms that
Whispered promises in her tired ear
Of a life that wrapped her 'round
With love and comfort and a faith
In the infinity of the sound.
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