A smooth massage for their feet,

As she walks across the sand,

It soon becomes softer,

As the tide is closing in.


Then, upon the golden shores,

A killer in for the seas,

A bottle of plastic remains,

On the ever-darkening beach.


A dolphin is seen in the distance,

Launching in the air,

She picks up the bottle, with a sigh,

Light glistening on aqua seas.


Will they be alright, she thinks,

Feeling a great darkness upon the seas, 

The fish, the fish, the un-self-aware fish,

Will they be alright, she hopes.