Plethoric grains of sand-
dug deep 'neath my hand.
And nails so hued and old-
wrinkles sanded in youth
These shores- miles away...
They are my childhood memories
that long to go but still in stay.
I owe it to the roaring tunes
of longward seas.
A paradise from distant lights,
and city buildings at their heights.
As long as the streets of carved lines
will lead to no where, where the
On this Island of persuit of happiness,
I can hold my elder dignity in no stress.
The grains from ocean shore,
digs deeps to my veins, my blood.
Shall I grow old nevermore.