I'm an outcast of your criticism,
I am the warm sunset
glowing orange with agony
on this rainy beach.
You see me so unpleased
with your insults,
but what you don't see
is my lightening strike
as I set fire to this lonely tree.
You don't see the beauty
in the flames that rise
to make this tree
fall to nothing
but the ash
which is dying
our beach sand black.
That tree will forever
be buried in the sand,
and the tide will carry it off
into the unknown of the ocean.
It's there that you will
meet an orange sun
of your own making
and let the tide
wash away what's left
of your lonely tree.
