The silken waves swept their salty essence on my cheek. All the tears in the sea cannot mend your sadness. I cannot change those yesterdays; soured fruit and bruised ideals. Tomorrow's vacant canvass, pale and untouched, beckons and there is promise in the shadows. The tide has stolen what might have been, plans and dreams which were not shared. But, my son, my son, there will be smiles again, laughter ripping through your lungs. The gleam in your eye will be the moistening of joy and new pains of love.