I’m a wayward ship, lost at sea.
My boat has holes, and the sails torn clean.
A directionless rudder moves with the waves,
unsure of where to turn.
Once a fine vessel, prim proper and new,
Overcoming the current, sailing straight and true.
Now a broken piece of driftwood, floating, lost at sea,
at the mercy of the tempest’s test.
As tempting as it is, to push on and find the way,
Repairs must be made, starting today.
If not, then surely we will sink to our watery grave
before we find our place.
We must heal the boat, plug the holes and stitch the sails
so we are ready once again to brave
the tumultuous ocean and ride the rocky waves
into the never ending sun
Sep 9, 2025
Sep 9, 2025 at 12:26 PM UTC
I’m a wayward ship, lost at sea.
My boat has holes, and the sails torn clean.
A directionless rudder moves with the waves,
unsure of where to turn.
Once a fine vessel, prim proper and new,
Overcoming the current, sailing straight and true.
Now a broken piece of driftwood, floating, lost at sea,
at the mercy of the tempest’s test.
As tempting as it is, to push on and find the way,
Repairs must be made, starting today.
If not, then surely we will sink to our watery grave
before we find our place.
We must heal the boat, plug the holes and stitch the sails
so we are ready once again to brave
the tumultuous ocean and ride the rocky waves
into the never ending sun
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