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poet707747


 A Pirate Looks at Sixty


I hear the soft sirens call from the sea;
She is singing that song again to me.
Beckoning me to come aboard and sail;
To add to the legend, to enhance the tale.

For I am a pirate, there is no doubt;
You had better take another route.
For pillage and plunder, they are my bag;
I am no good for you, I'm a real scallywag.

I thought I could relax, retire from the sea;
I feel the walls closing in, I must feel free.
I'm a scoundrel, my heart is truly black;
Your ship could be mine, I will fully ransack.

But then I stop, wondering why I'm so driven;
I have everything I want, but no peace is given.
So I sit and take another swig of whiskey;
Listening to the sea, a pirate looks at sixty.

23Mch10

Pardon me, Jimmy Buffett.


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