This is a revised version of the original. With the help of some extremely useful critique, and what I think is a wonderful reordering of the piece, Cynth'ya Reed has helped transform this from something too ordinary into a much more powerful piece, I think. Thanks, Cynth'ya!

He sailed out on life late one April day
Flutters along like a battered sheet in the wind
Tossed around by self-induced storm
Sleeps at night on wet pavement memories,
Broken glass horizons, cheap gutter dreams
Replaced good intention.

He never was what he says he is,
Stutters along
a battered sheet in the wind
Eyesore, heartache, drunken liar…
he believes is his destination.

Mortgaged his future
for a ship in a bottle
His boat couldn't make port
Money ran out when a riptide came in
Wrote himself off with a smile.

Remembers more battles lost than won,
He holds close to pirates’ ghosts,
and long dead spies,
Friends that keep him alive

He waves goodbye
Old wives pass him by
Unplanned sons chose not to see
Preferring to forget