Ships buoyant by aspirations
Sail on destitute oceans of tar and
Misfortunes.
When father’s voice has become a brazen wave
And mother’s milk: fermented to malnutrition
My ship is reduced to a one person raft
And the sail is filled with holes.
These ships we sail are fleeting by nature.
And I have drawn my heart away;
A necessary evil for one’s preservation.
“Let my bow sink first. In time,
I’ll rebuild hulls of tempered steel.”
But before I sink into the sea, I’ll force
The world’s isolation unto me.
But be it life, even of failure:
Like a flower’s desire to red
To blue
Or to yellow
Life Finds a Way.
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