Shells
Learn more about other poetry terms
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.
