I am not one of the sandcastles at the but you might be those sand flecks.

Late at the nights

When the stars turn bright

The moon shines white 

The castles of dreams, we built

And then preserved and cherished

Waited for them to come true someday 

Would tumble down in their ruins

Exactly like the ones at beachside 

Those sand flecks are made into new castles each day

And then they see each of them collapsing down

Tides would come and wash away the remnants too

And those flecks would make a new one the very next day

At times, I would think of you as those sand flecks,

Boorish and apathetic,

Not caring about the ones who break every time

Infact, building into new ones who are gonna end up the same