A shark, tormented by his limited amount of space, desires to see the world, as he cannot do such thing he begins to let every detail about his habbitat destroy him.
The sea is my despair, to which I have lived in for many recurring years. To abandon my position would be considered reckless; as a Great White I would be disgraced, but I am nothing of “great” or perhaps, I am nothing.
It’s Sapphire mass; torturing; A constant cue to where I am; what I inhale; what I despise.
To see through the blur, of its blue ripples, the unbroken blue ripples, blinding the view I long for.
To be king of the sky is my wish, to soar through the weightless, desultory clouds; the only soaked substance on my face shall be happy tears.
The dull recurring echo of the muted gulls is engraved eternally in my soul. Is it euphoric or tragic their faded crys suggest? Perhaps I will never know.
* Please do not steal or/and take credit for my poem *
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