As angry waves crach on the sandy plain,
Gulls fly as they escape the falling sea.
Clouds form above to add the threat of rain,
It’s vendetta clear to set it’s bombs free.
The infamous rocks stand dev’lishly high,
Seaweed seals over the vindictive crags.
And wooden beams from ships of years gone by,
The screams and calls of a crew in their rags.
The slight grains of sand, subdued under toes,
Repressed and suppressed and given their niche.
Home of marine life, escaping their foes,
As the winds picks it up, it whirls out of reach.
The obvious kinship: the beach and us,
We each have a rank, from which we all rose.