

Ocean
When the waves get high
And you no longer hear the gulls cry
The waves whip you about
And you try to shout
Knowing that nobody will hear you
But what can you do
The winds are lashing
The tops are gushing with foam
Then you say how I wish I were home
Or in a nice cozy bed
But you know deep down inside that you
Might end up dead
Then you wake up and before you can talk
A man says I brought you up here
On the dock
I found you laying upon the
Rocks.
Leslie R. Zopf
February 16, 1965-February 19, 1981
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