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