I watch sand run between my fingers,
Were two grains friends? Have I separated them for the rest of their 'life',
I don't want to be like the people who drive a wedge between two friends,
So I leave the firm white sand to its soon-to-be-eroded path,
White sky, white sea, white sun, white sand,
Like the institution I've just escaped from,
The sea-salt in the air is like the chemicals in the institution's air,
Sifting salt from sea-water,
Sifting tiny grains of happiness from my soul,
My blank white soul,
No happiness, no free-will,
Reigned in by media, religion, counsellors.
Why have they sifted my mind,
Of it's own independence,
And left me wandering the blank white shore of silence.