So, the artist in me has finally woken up from a very long slumber, here is a piece I wrote 2 days ago
Grains of the Sand
Smooth pebbles on the beach, coal and diamonds underneath
Stones, rocks, and boulders, all atop brooding mountain peaks
Which of these mere grains of sand are you?
Which of these mere grains in the sand defines you?
Are you that hour by the hour grain of sand?
Packed in with your punctual group of peers, confined to the frame of the hourglass
Promptly confined to a precise and specific frame of mind
Hour by the hour, there’s a plan, there are objectives
And Hour by the hour, you will precisely carry out the plan and the objectives
And like the other grains of sand in your hourglass, these are the days of your life.
“Oh God, please don’t let this hourglass crack, I have no idea what I’d do outside itâ€
Are you the smooth pebble on the beach grain of sand?
That suave, cool, maybe not collected grain of sand.
Do you give in to the ever alluring whims and fancies of the ocean?
Its swells, its waves, and don’t forget that tide.
Your every motion, a subtle reflection of the inconsistent flows of the ocean,
Be it tranquil or raging
Easy going, easy flowing, it’s all a playful paradise, until it’s not.
“Hey man, I’m just going with the flow, having myself a jolly good time. Up ahead?
I see no cyclones. Beyond the horizon? I see no hurricanes, so stop worrying, follow me, and let’s just be.â€
No? None of these? Well…
What about that fleck of dust grain of sand? Whether a desert, barren wasteland, or whatever flavor of plains you fancy, always at the mercy of Gusts, Gales, and sandstorms alike.
“Mother of Deity, help me get through this, I’m falling apart.â€
The coal and diamond underneath, or the brooding boulder atop a mountain peak?
Grains of sand embracing pressure, borne of pressure, and molded by pressure.
“Why do I embrace the weight of the world on my shoulders? Well, if I don’t do it, show me someone else insane enough to take my placeâ€
No matter the texture we present ourselves in, no matter the landscape or its elements,
None of us is truly better and none truly worse. Of course we’re different,
But we’re all just grains in the sand… Just mere grains of the sand.
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PS: Probably the vaguest piece of poetry I've ever written (I'm the author and
I have to decipher it

), but it's also the most fun piece of poetry I've written in a long while (haven't really written anything since last year December).
PPS: Yes, Poetic Licence is the enemy of grammar