Where Go My Boats?

I'm replacing real posts, witty, intelligent, emotional posts, for an old, dusty, substandard poem. It will have to do, I'm afraid, until I have more time to do things properly,

WHERE GO MY BOATS?

A Lament For Indian Ideals

Where go my boats?

Across the sea;

Across the waves to you, from me.

Where go my boats,

‘Cross fathoms deep,

Bearing my soul

For you to keep.

For slowly, each and every day

I stay here, my soul’s worn away;

Compassion’s absent from this race,

All wanting life at easy pace,

A life where graft’s a foreign term,

And only on paper they have to learn.

So go my boats,

Across the sea,

Across the waves to you, from me.

There go my boats,

‘Cross waters churned

Bearing my soul

‘Til I return.