On the Shore
Standing on the shore,
he realized he was like the ocean,
the ocean that came roaring in with so much promise,
but soon beat a hasty retreat,
while the sandcastles grew strong
on their modest ambition
staring down its unruly dreams with their bland judgment.
Like the ocean, he had been unable
to destroy the obstacles in his path,
obstacles as petty
as the sea shells the ocean could not budge.
He'd been scarred by them instead.
We are comrades in defeat,
he said to the ocean,
together we will make quieter waves.
The ocean rumbled. It belched
a rotting fish at his face.