The Sinking Ship
This relationSHIP is full of holes
yet we blithely carry on
pretending that we’re sailing
when all the wind is gone.
the fumes still last
of times long past
of travels out to sea.
Yet now we’re moored
and tied to shore.
Is this how it will be?
The waves now seem too dangerous
the sunshine’s turned to rain.
What chance perchance
of traveling
the ocean’s tides again?
What future lies in store for us?
What trips are to be seen?
the fact I am so hopeless
feels selfish and so mean.
Perhaps without the catheter
the ties that bind will clear.
but will I want to hop on board?
No longer, so I fear.
The ship will sink
the hopes will dash
we each will be alone.
But time will tell
with each new swell
if we will make it home.