When I was little I spent my days wishing on star fish
Wanting to be a siren of the sea,
Figured mermaid was the life for me.
I assumed all sailormen’s tales to be my history
Convinced I arrived from foliage of sea weed
Rather than derived from a lineage of oak seed
Or perhaps I am the stuff of drift wood… if I only could
I finally got old enough to give that dream up
But young enough to call my bluff
I figured, if I am confined to a life of two loose feet
Then I might as well put them to good use
R.C. Serra