Lost beneath the shipwreck
Down at the bottom of the cove
Suffering from the scurvy
With scant upon our old wood stove
No fresh water nor ripe fruit
Alone with only countless tales
Doomed with no audience nor friend
Fate of those who chase the whale
Simplistic attempts lurking beneath
But rejecting the notion of captivity
Breaking chains & spreading your legs
Blinded by your own claim at depravity
A picture postcard perfect appearance
Modest, yet smoldering beauty beneath
A festive spirit expounding – Winter’s tales
Out singing carols & hanging a wreath
But once you come home for the day
Put on those hooker lips & pirate boots
Time to release your animalistic desire
Tired of being demure & a little too cute
A palpable desire
Feeling it from deep within
Drowning my anxiety
Beneath 4 olives, vermouth & gin
Supposed to be a functioning adult
But I say bollocks to all that noise
It wasn’t all that long ago, still
Running the streets with the boys
Though I dress better now
The soul leaking through the cracks
My heart is a fragile commodity
Foreboding the oncoming attack
My desk lies cluttered with discarded notes
Scattered among my life’s rejected missives
Scorched earth beneath my words
Burnt before anyone can become dismissive
Seeing the outline of curves beneath your white shirt
I’m trying to focus on the words you so eloquently say
I respect you completely, but I’m a weak man
Allowing my primal urges to get in my mind’s way
Captain Q 