Bring me to the beach tomorrow,
where the sea forgets to breathe.
In all the darkness, there you are,
Singing a lullaby to the treasure thieves.
It isn’t then that I lose myself,
It is after, it is before.
It is all of the between.
It is there when I see the glaring guardian of the sky
finding those who pretend to be lost –
Akin to when this person is happy in the old-fashioned model.
Travelling through waves,
seeing time doing what it does best,
By: Naomi, Age 26, Wicklow