The pieces of broken seashells I collected
And treasured within a careful glass case
I have often wondered if I suffocated it too much
I am letting it out on the seashore today.
Tonight, by the full moon's gleam
It will join its likely company
And I will once again the glass case till fingers turn cold
And shiver with the shivering wind
Silenced by waves that beat the cliffs
Like a mother mourning the death of her favourite child
Beating her breast and wailing aloud...
I will hold on and cry, louder than that wailing mother
But will it come back for me?