Repetition Hell



I hear the waves lapping at the shadows my feet make

In the sands along the beach

The seaside catwalk

The sandy revenue.


I open my eyes only to see the stars causing an earthquake

Attempting to teach me

Teach me how to frolic

Through the frosty black and blue.


I feel the grass beneath my fingerprints, ready to take

The darkness that has decreased

Beneath the dock

Hailing the coming of many short moons.


And I sigh as I turn to fake

A smiling, careless face to tease

The dastardly, harrowing crock

That is the seasons’ repeated view.