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| Image by kai kalhh from Pixabay |
I sit like a Ship with a Broken Bottle and Cry.
For those who made me, never let me touch the Sky.
Or ever ever taste the Sea.
But to just sit on the Mantel and Pretty be.
And now life, like a Maschives Cat, has broken my Bottle.
And those that once sang my Praise and Admired me.
Have into the trash Launched me to Be.
On my Own, All Alone.
Soon to Sail into mysteries, that no Ship would ever want to see.
TDK
Copyright George King 06/08/2019
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