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Sail
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Poems The ship sways but I pay no mind
from Trinidad to Cuba...
We sing songs and shanties,
but time just expands...
Like the cold water beneath our boots.
My mates will think of Anne Bonny
but I walways dream of mermaids...
Oh, how it would be...
To swim alive in Davy Jone's locker.
Her and I would have a goats jig,
and I would arise to the surface,
with a large toothless grin...
I would fire my mortars into the air,
and when the night closed in,
me and my hearties would celebrate...
By plundering vast ships,
and counting our loot.
Our prisioners in shackels
and our enemys as shark bait.
I will sail the Caribbean,
sea to bloody sea.
With flintlock in hand,
a pirates life for me.
