Sail

I sail on a ship.

The wheel is my emotion and it turns with every hard wave.

The rudder is my will power,

And I refuse to move again.

The bow is my foolishness.

It's constantly scarred and whipped by the heavy blows that only my beloved sea can make.

The captain is my conscience and he drinks his pain away from morn 'til dusk.

The brig is full of my despair that is locked away.

It stretches out a time or two to help me spin a poem into existence.

The mast is my foresight but all is silent as the jagged rocks come into view.

The sails are my innocence from childhood.

They are broken and torn but they still manage to stay abreast and sail me to nowhere.

The anchor is my levelheadedness but I lost it a long time ago.

The ship itself is my love for you but you can see that it's slowly sinking.

Davy Jones' locker is my sweet call to come home.

I'll be in peace soon and this old beaten up love will be no more.