The Bay

The Bay

A Poem by Acianciara

Every morning to the shore he goes,
To stare into the distance,
Hearing the wind howl and blow,
He ponders his existence,

The mast of a ship seen far away,
Of his youth he reminisces,
Forever marooned in this bay,
Hearing the waves' playful hisses,

What if he'd taken a chance,
And boarded a ship years ago,
With a different fate now he'd dance,
A different life he'd know,

Who is the man he would be,
Who is the man he could've been,
Of his emptiness would he be free,
Over fate could he ever hope to win.

© 2015 Acianciara

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Added on November 4, 2015
Last Updated on November 4, 2015



Madison, WI

Physicist, russophile, romantic more..

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