Gravy Boat



For each rich and powerful estate that laps boats of gravy

Countless dots on the map are left to scramble for crumbs

The heat of the sun

Cold of the moon

Shine down on all the same

No one is immune from atoms decay

Spend a lot of money trying to stay

In control of time and the world

But immortality is a mysterious game

The rules are not for sale

The borders of reality slip the lines become wavy

For each rich and powerful estate that laps boats of gravy



Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Written on 2026-03-01 at 13:36

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