Like waves on a beach shore.

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Everyone is like a wave. They come and go. They change and grow and shrink and play and dance and dive and love the shore they caress. Some of them flow in smooth and gentle bringing harmony and leaving only love and happiness on the silver sands.
Others come in crashing and spiraling, destroying and collapsing onto your shore.
As they slither away and off of your  body, you are no longer silver.
You are black and oily, slick with grime and covered in things too caught up in the waves
to let go before they too were smashed upon you.
You are left to clean up the pieces and your body and your soul.
You can make the sands silver and silky again,
but the sands are not infinite and the moon only shines so long every night
to make you silvery again.

Beware the rip tide and the crashing people that invade your life,
taking everything and leaving only filth and broken things,
with broken wings.

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