Passion Poem by Simon Collins

It wasn't planned
To be like this
At
48
Lying face down
In the sand
Not daring to move
Because the pain
Increases with movement
But the tides coming in
It's horses are thundering
Seething and hissing
With crash and retreat
You have to get up boy
It was just a storm
Yes a howling tempest
But just a storm
You are alive
You are threatened
It will never change
You will always have passion
And passion is dangerous
Like the sea
At
48
I
Get
Up