Although sometimes I think otherwise, there’s something special about me.
I roll, I move; I am not the sea.
I have kaleidoscopic dreams.
The others, they are solitary, silent, deep. Seriously, they don’t say a word.
I rest in the shallows, looking for the world I lost.
Once I was more than this. I was…therefore I am.
I know this is true. I believe it. I have to.
The little guys, the ones beneath me, are silent. I despise them.
I long for colour, light, more.
A way to leave this hateful shore.
You can call it colourful, the grey of ocean.
You can call it life and light.
I dream of movement, the road I lost.
I remember tarmac, kerbs, sidewalks, the dry world.
Let me destroy this wet and dreadful place.
I am not destroyed. Look upon my plastic face.
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Alice Kuipers is the author of six books for young adults and children. Her work is published in thirty countries. Find writing tips and advice here: alicekuipers.com/connect or www.instagram.com/alicekuiperswritingprompts/
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