It's raining outside
Grey clouds over blue tide.
On a wrecked ship,
All alone,
Surrounded by pale faces and bones,
Heading by a compass with broken needle,
Balanced by a bad omen spelling black keel.
But,
In the corner other than these red skreigh,
There are couple of seagulls flying high,
Giving me a hope of life,
Saying be courageous we are with you in this ride,
Like an oasis in desert,
A good story on an old paper.
©jullie
@julliethepoet
©julliepoet
J