Second sunrise.
The titan of the sky blinks,
and I'm left lacking.
Foam and pebbles on a filthy beach.
Stinks of cellophane and cigarette butts.
Films, and a fine sand of broken glass.
Is this what the world left me for?
Sweating caps, and Ostrich optimists.
Dwindling spaces crammed with debris.
Pray. Alms. Bargaining.
Impotent.
Barren.