Ayn Rand is Mean and Bitter

For thirty-thousand. uninterrupted, ocean-treading years,

eating sand at the bottom of a fifty foot wave,

I was following, unknowingly, the water stacked above me.

And the current, unforgiving, pushed the ocean floor to trap me.

"What can flesh and blood arouse against the endless ocean wide,"

I'd ask, and wait in wailing mist to rise above the tide

But here I was,

with widened mouth all full of sand,

and I convulsed, expelled, released the load, 

began to swim against the tide,

and found the shore all on my own and held my past up by the collar.

Finally above the waves and standing on the sturdy shore,

and held aloft by past mistakes I watched myself above me.

And deeply took in oxygen.

And for the first time in my life I thanked myself for standing tall and strongly, 

high above the tide that held me down.