The Beach

I walk upon these little pebbles of life
that roll and then crease to match my feet.

I see a print of what I am
that sleeps upon this golden sand.

The print is not a favored look
so water takes it out for good.

Another print tries making way
but nothing seems to want to stay.

The foam just laughs at such attempts
to try and leave a new imprint.

For nothing stays within this world
besides the change that comes with time.

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