The Art of Skyscraping

I stand here by the ocean

As the waves go by

Trying to understand

Why dreams have to die

I always find my head

Buried in a book.

Because my life

Is filled with dread.

Some have solved it with a knife

But for me, all it took 

Was a good book.

I watch you lying on the bed,

Yet so much more can still be said

Your batting eyelashes

Are the focus of my camera flashes.

I would be the biggest fool,

If I didn’t capture it

On my camera spool.