The Mast
I watch you play and
remember the days
when you clung to my hip
me the mast of the ship
you the sail, pulled tight
wrapped around me, day and night.
And I felt weighed down
if I moved away, you’d frown.
If I had a break, you’d cry
so I succumbed to the tie.
It was hard to keep in mind
that in a matter of time,
you’d be floating away, free
no longer tied so tight to me.
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