summertime
anger can make even the best things bad
sand between my toes,
and now a pounding in my nose.
they never said you to plug your nose,
how do you breathe without your nose?
sun between the clouds,
and just as cramped as when it crowds,
i really hate the way it crowds,
can i just rest without the crowds?
water to my knees,
i start to tremble in the deep.
i didn’t know it was this deep,
and how much deeper is it deep?
a wave above my head,
i say a prayer and think i’m dead.
if i die here am i dead,
and will they find me when i’m dead?
awoken by a sound,
it’s just my clock a lovely sound.
when i am mad i am not sound,
because i miss the beach’s sound.
