She has travelled from where two worlds meet,
Wits full of gold, but not her hatch
She has pursued currents under sea men's feet,
A trampled deck, no other could match
She is almost immersed in unfamiliar sea,
Lungs gasping, she does falter
She is watching them wash away, cargos of tea,
A torn sail, her position does alter
She was not a ship remembered for the goods she had bare,
Nor remembered for her tragic ends,
She was not remembered for how she had worn out there
Too late for her to make amends
Her goods did not remain but her identity stained
