Like a Child

I feel like a child who built her sand castle too close to the ocean.

It keeps sinking, but she's driven by her blinding, childish devotion.

Getting frazzled enough to relocate, she moves away from the shore. 

After finishing the structure, she sees her move was a worthwhile chore,

and as she looks back towards the ocean, wonders what her enfrazzlement was good for. 

Finally proud of what she had made, she scurries off to show her parents.

But as clouds begin to blot out the sun, their intentions of leaving become apparent.

Droplets of rain begin to fall, drizzling down at first, but then escalating to a torrential downpour. 

The girl's father scoops her up as she looks back at her fallen structure and wonders what her work was good for. 

Sixty years later, the girl, now a middle aged woman, finds out that she has skin cancer, stage three. 

She endures the treatment for five years, but the care proves no match for her one too many days at sea. 

Before she knows it, she keeps sinking into her bed, but she clings onto her life with the same devotion as before. 

Looking out her window at the ocean's shore, she fades away wondering what gripping at her painful existence was good for.