Charge Him With A Pirate Infraction
'Shot drills are meted-out
Whatever's oppressing?
Surely we'll play it out of our flutes…
We'll find a solace'.
Wistfully, caressing…
Some heartbreak's; grace.
'Singing songs; akin to sea shanties'.
Like Barnicle Bill the Sailor
Over beautiful sea green waves…
Confessing, you, long since stabbed me.
O deeper than any burning stave.
O now I'm just a dead absentee!
A washed up; galley, slave.
'Lord God I'm already long, since drown.
Beneath these tidal waves…
Darkening in the seas ebony; black boules.
And can't be saved…
From a pirate's infractions,
No more my love—no more—be saved'.
poem by Mark Heathcote
Added by Poetry Lover
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