They leave marks which dissappear soon
Those waves, with their edges ,white with foam..
They stay, they play, they recede to return.
They erase whatever you wrote, dear son..
These lessons, we learn though ,even as we grow
But refuse to write ‘nother word and show
That life is all play, loss and gain
We stay, sinking down, as man and woman
How I wish, that I stayed at your age...
Learning little things, to forget in this stage.....