Seashells Poem by Saniya Galeyeva

Seashells on the sand
at the sea shore shining,
listening to bands,
breathing, laughing, crying.

Drops of water blink,
rolling, stopping, eying,
making the shells think
and begin perspiring.

Most of them are null,
empty, devastated,
waste, abandoned, dull
or filled up with hatred.

Many shells are soft,
smashed, milled into powder -
the same happens oft
with the human dower.

Only few are full,
bearing pearls, ingenuous.
But someone will fool
all the same those angels.