I stand on the shores of a beach vast, long, sandy, waves crashing Sand washing away from under my feet, sinking, wind lashing To my left a mighty yacht, seamless with grace, sails flapping in the breeze To my right a wooden boat, scarred, beaten embattled by large seas I choose wisely a boat that will serve my thoughts memories my slaves I climb aboard the weathered vessel, I sit rocking in the waves Drifting into open seas my wooden boat it leaks a cup I’m scooping water Paddling with my hands I cry a salty tear victim of oceans daughter Waves rise crashing into my vessel stricken no safe harbor I’ve lost grip My watery tomb consumes my sleepy soul captain goes down with the ship