The Boat

Alone, far out to sea, away from home I lie,
The ocean bed, the murky depths, this is where I die,
On a long journey, on my way to another home,
I lost control and sank; now this is where I roam.

I’ll need some help, some renovation,
Some patched-up holes for this new nation,
Apart from that I’m good as new,
And ready to get out of this world of blue!

Deep down, in the Mariana Trench, no one’s ever found me,
I hope this letter reaches home, then I’ll return with glee.