Dead Fish Float

by michael   May 21, 2012


Every night I sail a sea of gold-
Chained to the mast against my will,
My habit finds itself excess.

Everything reminds me-
That I am a fugitive of my sanity,
Blindly following the same path.

Between the conflict of tides,
It''s hard to sail a ship alone...

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Latest Comments

  • 13 years ago

    by Dagmar Wilson

    You are so right, well written 5/5