If you would only listen.
Like rain, it sings to you
Reminding you of the past.
But I've learned to ignore the sound of the waves...
Too much pain...
Like when you call me darling
And I know you will never be mine.
I no longer pick up seashells
And hold them to my ear.
For I've already heard
The solemn sound of the ocean,
Where poetry rests,
Nesting with the salt and beach sand.
Some prison cells listen when you cry.
When words blend together in the silence,
Like one sinister song,
Moving along, melodiously through the empty halls.
But I no longer waste my tears;
Or plea fervently with the spirits of old.
For I've already done my time
Spent my days empty and alone,
Where words beguile men with passion
And leave them stranded in the waves.