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  • Jack Wrobel


The waves washing over me

drifting my problems away.

The sun scorching my skin

burning my inhibitions out.

The sand slipping out of my hand

grain by grain, sadly like an hourglass.

My time fading into a sunset.

Soon i will be back in the classroom

where my water bottle is the closest I'll get to the ocean,

wishing summer never ended.

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