The Guard

February 26, 2013
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I'll put it all in a bottle,
and send it out into the ocean,
then it will go to your island.
He told me,
in strained and frantic,
words through the phone.
Troubles confided between,
best friends that share,
love and loyalty.
I am an island.
They stand on the shore,
putting their worries,
hopes and dreams,
into bottles.
Forcing their fears and wants,
down the skinny neck.
And I stand on my beach,
waiting to catch the glass.
Receiving the messages,
with careful movements.
They send me their secrets,
and I hold them in my gentle hands.
They send them to me,
because i am an island.
Isolated and stranded,
the perfect guard.

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