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Image for the poem Flip-flops

Flip-flops

Blood    
of fine grained sand  
carried on the breeze of fate  
becoming dunes    
our souls to struggle    
buried beneath the grains    
as tired flip-flops in the sand    
waiting    
for winter storms    
washing the dunes to sea    
to be uncovered by the tides    
reborn    
upon the sand    
as the seas of chaos    
break upon the creations' shores    
an endless dance of life    
our blood    
just grains of sand    
our lives becoming dunes  
that hide our soul    
waiting  
for the storms
APissPoorShaman
Written by APissPoorShaman
Published | Edited 22nd Jul 2021
Author's Note
Perhaps our souls are buried deep beneath our lives for protection, cherished unknowingly. When storms break upon us, our soul are uncovered and float to the surface in our hour of need like life...
Perhaps our souls are buried deep beneath our lives for protection, cherished unknowingly. When storms break upon us, our soul are uncovered and float to the surface in our hour of need like life rafts we never knew we had. Perhaps
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