The Small Blue Boat, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The Small Blue Boat

Her possessions robbed
The small blue boat bobbed
In the bouncing sea.
Tethered to the dock
Secured by a lock.
When the wild winds blow
No place can she go.
While rising water
Climbs o’er her gunwale
Apt to fill her hull.
Her jostling about
Has left not a doubt
Soon to the bottom
She’s going to sit
Having no spirit.
Nothing to live for
Won’t fight anymore.
So sad, slowly she
Sinks to her demise.
There’ll be no goodbyes.

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