The Boat

I read a poem that told me
I was the master of my fate 
and the captain of my soul.
I didn't understand
what that could possibly mean.
Sure, maybe you can steer the boat,
but sometimes the sea,
has a mind of its own.
And it can toss you
whichever way it pleases,
and you can't do anything.
Nothing at all but let it take you
and sweep you up.
And in the middle of the storm,
you are not sure you have the power
to steer the boat towards its destination,
if, even, you knew,
which way to steer.





(the poem I mention here is Invictus by William Ernest Henley)