Rich Mansfield's "words" is about surviving a dark moment and coming out the other side. The speaker describes pain as a river and a sea, and says they nearly drowned in it today. Sorrow comes in waves, and even tomorrow, which should feel hopeful, seems to threaten them, as if the future were trying to swallow them whole. The walking-and-sinking image makes the exhaustion feel physical: each step is harder, spirits are low, and life seems to be draining away.
Then the mood turns. The speaker struggles free and ends up standing on "the grass of the future," turned away from the sea of the past. The shift from water to solid ground feels like relief and quiet determination rather than loud celebration. The language is simple and raw, with a few spelling slips and no polish, which makes it feel like a genuine, honest outpouring. The overall mood moves from heavy and desperate to steady and hopeful.