My mind is like an ocean, calm and affable;

But sometimes its distressed and a bit upset.

The waves are like my thoughts crashing into my heart.

The unsettling waves wreck engulfing amicable shards they stain with their disturbance.

When I think the problem has faded, there seems to be a recurrence.

It’s a never ending cycle of mayhem breaking every fulfilment within.

Each blow makes the core feel more careless and broken down;

Once was a elegant stone, now turned into a battered grain of sand.

They rise over the injured and consume them whole;

They probably just want to be let alone.

Why do the good never feel at home?

Those grains once felt beautiful; they want to feel the sun glisten upon their face again;

But this is a cycle that never ends.