The captain was the last man left…

The hollow ache of having lost his crew
ate at the captain,
inside it brewed, and it stewed,
impatient,
he cocked his gun,
stared directly into the sun,
closed his eyes,
as the warmth caressed his face,
he rubbed his sweaty palm
on his chest,
finally, his mind was calm,
he placed the gun to his head,
hesitated momentarily,
as if walking on thin ice,
he wasn’t a hard-nose captain,
in fact, he was considered very nice,
shot rang out,
the flapping wings of sea birds were heard
but there was no shout,
deck red,
captain dead.

59
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Comments (8)
  • voodoobrb on Mar 25, 2011

    Great share. Nice writing

  • Christine Ramsay on Mar 25, 2011

    That poem certainly made me sit up and take notice. Well written.

  • yes me on Mar 31, 2011

    Liked that one Frank cheers

  • Sammy2000 on Jan 31, 2012

    very well done :)

  • Atanacio on Feb 28, 2012

    thanks for reading :)

  • Otisman on Mar 1, 2012

    very good you write well my friend :)

  • Markcus on Mar 13, 2012

    a very good write

  • LarryW on Apr 16, 2012

    Top notch man

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