The Tramp Steamer's Pilot

I sail a craft which has no name
Among these islands made of need.
My wife must have me see her work
And tell her she has done enough.
My children must be reassured
That they are not the failures
That their mother seeks to make
Them seem. My friends must know
They're not forgotten. My love,
Who'd say she needs nothing, needs
To see me sailing by to say how
Much she means to me, to bring
Her words she's never heard, and I,
It seems, need to be needed, my
Craft christened Need.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 65 times
Written on 2015-04-18 at 01:23

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text