My Way

I am almost gone...

these figures come and they go just as the heat and the cold.

One seems to come more than the other.

I am homeless...

the heat comes more than the cold these days.

I drift in the water more than I should,

the ice has become thinner and food more rare.

I'm not getting the heat I should from my hair.

My stomach rumbles loud at night,

but I must feed them first.

Their cries make me try and push my limit.

To fight the sea lions and search for seals, hoping all these wounds will heal.

I wonder if these figures that come and go plan to help or trudge away,

or just look upon us day after day.

The time has come...

we are being saved, it seems to be tight here in this cage.

I hear their yelps, yearning for me.

What is that I happen to see? Big white and a long snout.

It's me you see, here and there I am.

Drifting in the currents like a 99 cent can.

It's not just the earth, it is also you.

Playing a part in whether or not my life should continue.

The ice is fading with all of our history, leaving us to be a big white mystery.

I am seen, seen as a beautiful creature but not heard.

The way I describe who I am is through my way with words.

   

This poem is about: 
Me

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