A playful, blue fish darts across the bottom
of the orange coral reef.
My smiling face glows like the seafloor
as diffused streaks of white light
dance across the sand.
I float on the warm Caribbean sea,
peering into the beautiful world below mine—
a world that does not belong to me.

I see a rainbow of colors.
A red lobster shuffles grouchily
from rock to mossy rock.
Orange coral waits wisely
for new life to reside in his crevices.
Yellow Tangs play gleefully,
vying for my attention.
Green seaweed sways rhythmically,
dancing with the currents.
A blue seahorse drifts lazily
in and out of plants.
The purple ocean stretches endlessly,
full of life,
as far as I can see.

Suddenly, something catches my eye.
The wrinkled, brown, slithering shape
seems out of place in this beautiful community.

When I take a second look,
it had already burrowed down,
deep down,
into the murky sand.
I see the wrinkled, brown shape again,
but this time it isn’t moving as fast.
I realize it is a paper bag;
the one that held my lunch.

Then I see a red wrapper
nestled against a rock.
I see an orange barrel
with a haz-mat sign on it.
A yellow license plate,
slowly rusting over.
Green beer bottles
slink across the sea floor.
A blue bucket sits
half buried in sand.
The purple ocean stretches endlessly,
full of false beauty,
as far as I can see.

I peer into the world below mine—
the one that does not belong to me—
and realize that this false beauty
was created by me.