When The Ship Run Out Of Ocean Poem by Vincent Cibelli

Fortune found me in my errors
The storm's blown off course
The swelling seas settle
Holes patched with duct tape
Hold strong, I float unharmed
Onto the tropical shore
Grandmother talks of gaurdian angels
She prays to the Mother Mary for me
Maybe unfounded, I fear
My good luck fate
Is tied tightly to her good faith
When her arthritic hands relax
From prayer for the final time
Have mercy I ask her God
And better and healthier
Ill try to live my life
That life which upto this point
I have squandered
Let there still be a fatted calf
For me the prodogial servant son
For I am God, I am Satan and I am Job
Such an unclear trilogy
With an unclear end