a broken vessel
and bailing water is drowning
out the ability to drift back to shore,
it’s always calm before the storm
but when a breeze disappears
the chance of moving anywhere
flies away like the seagulls
laughing in cocksure,
the water seems so thick
like drifting in ink that draws out
abstracts of stagnancies
and ever time I row,
the boat rhymes in harmony
with the singing current
and cisterns will begin to cry,
I can’t travel alone and
I don’t know how to swim
but at least the sand below
will be softer than rock bottom

                                       MJB

Hi, this isn't a poem, and I apologize if that is what you expected.
I have had a couple of you guys messaging me, asking what happened, and why I haven't been posting like I used to.
Poetry is my outlet and way of expression. I don't have much to write about, and I'm not going to force a poem to make some of you happy.
I appreciate all the love and comments I have been receiving on the poems I have posted so far this year, but as time goes on, I have less time to write. College is crazy and a new chapter of my life is beginning.
I am by no means leaving Hello Poetry, however my writings will be sparse, saved for when I have a true story to share.