Broken and tossed against the hardened shoals
Life’s dreams take on a new meaning of pain.
We battered, discarded, and forgotten
Still try to give of ourselves and our souls.
It isn’t enough to be a good man.
There is often no reward for these goals
Because we should be glad to do the work.
So we move along as the wind controls
Or waves with sea shells as we smile and feign
Happiness so we will not seem rotten
While we beg to gather alms in our bowls.
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