Man Poem by Victor Galicia

In the morning crawls a man,
unable to understand
that the youth in his soft hands,
the same one that he began,
will soon drip into the sand,
never to be seen again.

In the day the same young man,
hopes and dreams set in his head.
Youth still with him in his hands,
boldly strides on two strong legs,
trail behind him in the sand,
never to be seen again.

In the night the same old man,
wishing he could once again,
hold his youth in wrinkled hands,
he is unable to stand,
blue waves wash him off the sand.
Never to be seen again.