Son of a Pirate HG

The mast was tall when I was small,

and you swore the winds obeyed you.

You laughed at every rising wave,

said the sea could never sway you.

But I watched the bottle lanterns swing,

as the tides pulled hard and strange,

and even then I felt the drift

in the currents you never changed.

You held the wheel with shaking hands,

calling it “the sailor’s dance,”

but I learned early not to trust

a compass spinning by chance.

And we sailed on seas you swore were tame,

though the hull groaned out your name,

and every night the shoreline slipped from view.

I clung to ropes you left untied,

trying not to slip outside,

still believing storms were something only meant for you.

The years rolled in like restless tides,

and the sky grew dim and hollow.

You charted maps on wrinkled scraps,

daring me to blindly follow.

But the waves grew sharp around your feet,

and the deck began to lean,

and I learned the ocean mirrors truth

you pretend it’s never seen.

You called the swells “a sailor’s friend,”

but I saw how deep they pulled you in,

and I tied knots you never learned,

just to keep the bow from giving in.

Still we sailed on seas you claimed were kind,

though the winds betrayed your mind,

and the stars you chased were drifting out of tune.

I held the helm when you let go,

feeling storms you didn’t show,

and I realized I’d been steering far too soon.

The night you swore the moon was ours,

the clouds rolled in like warnings.

The deck was slick with all you’d spilled,

and the dawn refused its morning.

I saw the truth in crashing waves—

that the sea won’t spare the blind,

and a boy becomes a man the day

he leaves the sinking ship behind.

You begged the tide to turn around,

but the storm had found its claim,

and I cut the rope that held us close,

whispering your forgotten name.

So I sailed from seas you swore were safe,

as the sky tore at your shape,

and the thunder called the debts you never paid.

Your shadow faded in the foam,

as I carved a path alone,

knowing some ships break no matter how they’re made.

Now I sail on seas you couldn’t brave,

past the wreck you couldn’t save,

and the silence holds the truth you never told.

I carry storms behind my eyes,

but I’ve learned to read the skies,

and I leave your ghost to wander where the waters fold.