I laugh a lot.
I cry a lot.
Visions of greatness frequent my thoughts.
Why must life be a cycle of day and night?
A swell of joy and an ebb of tears
That wash over the wreckage of a life-
Smashed on the rocks of fate.
And tomorrow is another day.
Another day.
Another ship,
Or the same ship that was never wrecked…
Again?
The rainy season gusts and sprays
And my life is almost shipwreck.
The dry season passes silent
With a gull scream overhead.
I sit silently.
It is a good day for sailing.
I laugh a lot.
I cry a lot.
