When i was a child,
I would carve my name in sand.
Created so awkardly
With a twig in my hand.

As i grew older…
My name was carved in wood.
Chisled on my battered desk,
Left my mark as others would.

Then slowly i matured,
The sand washed away.
While my ancient desk from school,
Had surrendered to decay.

So useless were more…

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