The Music of Seashells


Driving through the busy streets,

racing the pine trees,

soaking in the golden rays

glancing by the leaves.


To find chaos amidst the hustle,

I must go on.

Like waves whirling by

leaving the shore behind.


Here I am on the sandy cushion,

to get a whiff of the ocean.

To be carried in the world of ecstasy

by the music of seashells.

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