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Sea Money This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

Small etched flower, delicate and smooth, sing to me your story.
Tell me of your strife; let me heal your wounds.
Show me how you live; I will take your place.
Oddly shaped with no edges, you stay seated, silent.
No color, muted, you fade into the background.
You shimmy beneath the sand, hiding from everyone around you.
Shaken and scared, you find pleasure in seclusion.
Come to me, tiny flower.
Feel your way out, minuscule sand dollar.
I could use a little sea money in my pocket.



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GangstaEyes This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jun. 25, 2011 at 11:35 pm
Great imagery in this one.  I love how you are writing TO the sand dollar instead of about it. :)
 
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