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They say getting out of your shell cheers you up. They say it's good for you. But I don't know. What if I’m not a turtle. I'm a roly poly.
When the storm clouds rolled, I lifted my head to the sky. When fate the lightning foretold, I smiled but didn't wait to die. Lifting my skirts, I danced through the rain,
Words long lay dormant And out of reach, Like shells washed up On a barren shore They gave the turbulen expanse A settled beauty, But the waves left Nothing free.
How curious it is, to walk along beaches Made of thousand-year old shells, and Think about how young we in are in comparison. Sand dollars and dried-up crab shells floating around
Gazing upon the windows of night, Soft Shells crushed in my hands, I cry as my tears fall upon scattered sand kingdoms. Intricate life scattered like sand upon the beach I stand upon.