The rain drifts to the river
Where the wind blows
And the waves grow more intense.
I walk down to the river so sadly
Missing a ship of dreams
Where I can worship
Where I can enjoy
Where I can succeed
Where I can be free.
Today, like other days,
I am standing in front of the river
And I am very upset
I was unsuccessful
I have vanished.
From the river, between the waves and the wind,

I hear a voice:

You are victorious
You are an activist
You are liberated
You are blessed.
But I realize the voice is coming

from a ship that has drowned.

By Angela

photo by Trey Ratcliff