Lovers Poem by Dylan Rivera

We know they're fools.
Keeping their insanity clasped in their hands;
clenching their wisdom between their palms.
Down by the bay, they are stillborn
because life is up the street.
Street lamps watch their every move.
It is time to go home.
Down by the bay, you'll find them:
As the oceans whisper about them and the sand
works towards burying them.
The clouds watch.
Cheer on from the bleachers,
and the lovers are unaware.