Soft Bullet

A man attracted to the sound of waves Ended up to live in the lighthouse Since then His job is to hang the things Floating in the ocean At this port Ships come in from all over the world Some travel on the sea of tears Of hearts that have never reached to their beloved ones And fell into the salty waters Hearts, shaped like soft worn-out bullets Are picked up by the light house keeper Every time he hears the sound of them falling And floating in the ocean He goes out there To pick them up Wit his big and thick hands Then he waits Until the hearts are dried Until the tears of the lingering attachment Are evaporated And they make a lively dry rustling sound What the light house keeper is concerned with is That he must find someone Who will succeed the job Which he has been going For more than seventy years I'm thinking to recommend That he ask the captains Married to ships all over the world