The Fickle Finger of Fate

A full stop can sometimes appear in mid-sentence 
the story could suddenly end in a flash,
It’s sad when we find with the best of intentions
that fate has decreed that our hopes will be dashed.

While footprints are gradually washed from the shoreline
in transit we travel from sunrise to dusk,
As raindrops form rainbows in glorious sunshine
the gold that they harbour may turn into rust.

Imagine one person’s a wave on the ocean
while everyone else is a small grain of sand,
It may be symbolic but still there’s a notion
that life’s what occurs when you make other plans.

© 2021 Tim Parry