The Currants

Life is a very deep beautiful ocean
Filled with different visual
Seen and unseen
They all play the strings of our
With a change of motion
We get caught in the current
Gasping for air,
Kicking punching and screaming.
We see but we dont see.
Over the years we’ve become
Professional surfers of this
Current I call life.

Where are the life guards,
They are specially trained.
I guess they don’t see
The vast flash on bones
Struggling to keep afloat
Many have sunk
I dive deep into the current
Looking and searching
Who is for me?

I see others pairing up
They seem to be getting
By in pairs.
Is that the point of this?
To not go through it
The currant won’t
Drown me.

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