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Writer's pictureA Metalhead's Poetry

Aging Pirate



Beneath a flag of a skull and crossed bones

There was an old man sitting

He was talking in booze cracked tones

His appearance seemed fitting


With just one leg and one arm

But the largest smile around

And eyes that give no signs of alarm

In his presence everyone is bound


He shows to pull up an empty seat

Join the crowd and listen in wonder

His story telling is driven by a beat

He tells of his younger days of plunder


Jumping from one story to the next

He now speaks of how his limbs were lost

His words can almost be seen like floating text

He sees his ancient injuries as a worthy cost


He seems to miss those days of old

In his remembering tears are shed

He still dreams of all that looted gold

Memories of his old ship lodged within his head


He suddenly ends his captivating tales

At the horizon he now lovingly stares

With the skyline studded with sails

He truly misses living life ordered by dares


He has nothing left, just one wish to make

But that wish, out loud he will never say

He feels like he has one quest left to take

Maybe he will take a last quest one day.


©Josh West

Picture credit: wikipedia

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