The Fisherman

in poetry •  8 years ago 

Lads abroad on sinking ships 

To hell and gone

They sail the day

For dusk to dawn

They slave in house

Of men who prance

In greener days

But leaner gays

Are granted place

To slay the catch

Of working days

That shifted up

From frosty rise

They then begin

To bargain off

What could have been

Such lasting meals

For shrivelled group

Their little lambs

Shall sniff about

In crowded streets

For all to last

A few more days

And these few days

For many years

Have been the days

Remaining forth

Appraisal unto them who then

Return to sea

To fish again

- Bianca Gain

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