Shell This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

April 22, 2011
Walking along the ocean shore
I step on something sharp
I move my foot and see a shell
I reach and pick it up, as I sit right in the sand.

I start to think and wonder, what creature found safety
Within this fragile shell
I start to think about myself
And how my body is like a shell
And my spirit a mysterious creature.

When I die the spirit leaves,
And my body will be empty,
Unable to be moved of its own accord,
Washed away by the tides of time.
My spirit will move to a safer, permanent place
As the creature found a bigger shell.

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