A Story
February13
When I was seven,
My best friend was the sand
That pressed against my toes
And stretched for miles down.
The sea was my backyard.
When I was eight.
Daddy’s job took us far
Far far away.
To the city lights and “zoom-zoom” cars.
And the buildings became my backyard.
Now I’m ten,
And I haven’t seen my best friend since,
Haven’t felt it pressed against my toes
Or see it stretched for miles down.
City lights
“Zoom-zoom” cars
That don’t stretch for miles
They are my best friends now.