Here I am, a sea-farer,
out here in this ocean blue,
clinging to my sorry raft,
longing to know what to do.
Started I upon this voyage
in a ship so fine and grand:
I a member of the crew,
one of many strong shiphands.
Alas! my trip, it seems, was doomed,
a storm did make the ship capsize,
and I, alone, did I survive
amid the dying sailors' cries.
For now three days I'm lost at sea,
with but parchment and some ink,
a ruined picture of my girl
and only rum left now to drink.
So here, with nothing left to do,
I'll drain the rum, then take this pen,
so write a poem to my love
and place it in the bottle then.
One day they'll find it on the shores,
some foreign land quite far away.
They'll read it and will know of I
who wrote my sweet in my last days.
Then I will float out here at sea,
until it beckons me at last,
and to its deep embrace I'll go;
my final love note has been cast.
-D.B.
Author notes
Not sure why I feel compelled to write notes after every poem, but I do. 
This is pretty straightforward; not much to say about it. I must say that this has some of my worst rhyming ever. Lovers of rhythm and structure roll several times in their graves. But whatever. I tried.
Dan
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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SOunds like you're drifin away and giving up
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alrighty then
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Naw, see, this is a common style of me. I'll write poems that tell stories of other people that honestly have nothing to do with me. I'm actually doing quite well right now. I just like to invent fictional stories, sometimes, like this one, sad. Thank you for commenting! I'll have another poem rolled out in a few minutes. I've been gone for awhile and so am just posting all the stuff I've had in my notebooks.
Dan
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