The Shell

I washed upon a rocky shore,

my edges worn and rough.

My colored stripes were bright no more,

my countenance was tough.

Then as I lay in summer's heat

a little crab came by.

"I'm looking for a home," said he,

"and you will do just fine."

We went upon a lonesome trip,

'twas just the crab and I.

Although the waves did bash and whip,

we traveled with the tide.

Until one day the crab did find

a bigger empty shell.

"I need to grow. You've been so kind.

but now it is farewell."