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Going Home
Sand encrusts my feet
As I walk upon the beach
Each grain is a memory of mine
Sticking between my toes
Clinging to my wrinkled skin
Unwilling to let go
Dirt mixes with the sand
Hiding behind purity
Concealing its imperfections
Not wanting to be seen
Or remembered
By the naked eye
My footprints are pressed
Into this dirt-sand mixture
Stretching miles down the beach
For I have tread this coastline
A great distance
The end of the beach is near
I see the upcoming horizon
With the reds and oranges
Of the lowering sun
Making the sand sparkle
Bidding me farewell
As I plan my exit
One, two, three steps
And I am in the water
Washing away my memories
For they are irrelevant
Where I am headed now
I am going home

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