The sand blew across the beach, stinging Ray’s face
Roaring waves ran themselves onto the shore
Everything screamed pirate to him
And to think the chest could be buried right below his feet
So many years ago his grandfather had hinted about this very place
Under the tropical sun, Ray was finally ready to prove the old man right
Reaching for his shovel he began to dig, looking for the possible riches
Eventually Grandpa laughed, picking Ray up and carrying him into the surf
When you finally get something to go right
It spreads across your face as the feeling grows inside
Now onto the next challenge
Little white ones are okay
If you don’t want to bruise their feelings, right?
Even if you should be honest, face it
So many more times they edge towards they gray
Here is the true balancing act
Until you find where the white gets dirty
Really you are golden
Then you finally cross that line, and you did, didn’t you?
Twisted thoughts tumbled from his lips
Outwardly he kept his face smooth and composed
Really on the inside, he was spinning in tight circles
Quitting the torrent of lies, he took a deep breath
Unsure his verbal torrent had convinced her of anything
Eventually, he decided to throw in the truth to see what that would do
Definitely hadn’t expected the truth to have such an impact
Wet drops of salty water raced down her weathered face
Ending in a pitter pater at her feet
Every drop carried a little bit of her anguish
Purging her soul of its pain
He picked up his beer bottle and cried. Today had been such a rollercoaster. He closed his eyes and relived their last conversation.
“I can’t believe you bought that,” she said.
He cradled his prize like a baby. “Why not?” he asked.
“Just put that beer back or I’m going to leave you.”
“But it’s not just a beer.”
“What is it then?”
“Look, it’s in a copper bottle. See?” He slightly shook it in front of her face.
“You really want to do this again after the last time?”
“You’re the one wanting to do it again. I am just getting my beer.”
“I can’t handle this. It’s become a ridiculous habit. Look, it’s either the beer or me.”
She placed her balled fists on her hips and cocked her head to the side. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
He looked at the empty bottle of Sam Adam’s Utopia. She had left him, but now so did the beer. Life just wasn’t fair. He wondered if he could get her back. He opened his wallet to see if he had the $150 to buy another bottle. Nothing was there.
“Damn! Guess I’m back to Pabst Blue Ribbon.”
Good dreams to fall back on
It makes waking up so much better
Finding yourself with a smile on your face
That makes the rest of the day a present
The rose bit Olivia’s finger, releasing a single scarlet drop
Hendrik felt horrible. She was the love of his life and he had caused her pain
Olivia sucked at her wound with a small pout on her face
Realizing he needed to do something, he leaned forward to seal it with a kiss
Never seeing the rose as she smashed it into his face
Perhaps being irrational is just my style
I keep going around and around
Didn’t stop slicing it into pieces
As I stuff as much into my face
You mean it’s a number? Eat my shorts!
Fastening his best smile on his face
Although it didn’t come close to his eyes
Knowing it would never fool her
Even as he failed to fool himself