All our lives, in our mission, we try to overtake the next person,
Just like each wave tries to be bigger and better than the last.
In our chase, our greed and circumstances begin to worsen,
Those mistakes we should’ve learned from, forgotten in the past.
This underlying message is lost to our deaf ears,
To be a part of something much bigger than yourself.
The water merely a collection of our blood, sweat, and tears,
A human’s shallowness evident just like a continental shelf.
The foam and shells a constant reminder, a faded memory,
Of what we once were, our past lives in continuous collision.
It all seems soothing, like something from a dream, a reverie.
Permeating through the holes in our mind, seeping through our vision.
Tiny crustaceans crawl across the sand and lay in the tidal pools,
Just as our doubts creep across our mind and lay beneath the surface,
Those we choose to believe over certain facts, like utter fools.
The human race pretends to be infinite, just like the ocean, far out someplace.
The mysterious thing about the sea, the deeper you go, the more you fear,
The more to see, the more to know, pertaining to the ocean and one’s self.
Murky green and blue waters lapping away, nothing is ever clear,
Deeper we go into our head, deeper into that water we decide to delve.
The bigger picture is lost to the sea, a sailor that won’t come through.
There may be water all around us, but we feel like we’re in a drought.
And so left on the shore, when we gaze into that water, hues of blue,
What we see staring back at us is a reflection: of ourselves no doubt.