All hands on deck while this sail
wraps around my neck.
I try to escape but the tide
washes me back.
The planks are worn and holes
riddle the rotting keel.
I made my craft from weakened wood
when it should have been made of steel,
the waves slowly seep in
whispering of a salt water meal.
The ropes that dangle from my withered mast
threaten to string me up
like a pirate put on blast.

No more "yo **'s"  and "aye mateys"
the cabin's locked, with no handle or slot
for a key.
And the rudder is stuck, drifting me
in loops
Every port I land in cheats me,
I've been duped
of all my treasure,
armaments, and ship
If I can fix this vessel
It'll strike a coarse
for a watery grave
Sunken at the bottom, the sea
will never be the same.