All of us are the children <br />Of parents who did not like the land. <br />So they all met one day <br />And built a colossal raft by hand. <br /> <br />This was Hydropolis, <br />They christened it by setting it out to sea, <br />My mother took all her belongings, <br />Her clothes, her gear and in her belly, me. <br /> <br />We moved by the bolero of the tide, <br />The other kids and I, <br />We used to watch the waters scintillate. <br />Across the Pacific, Atlantic we did glide, <br />And for food to get by <br />We used to fish, I got to put the bait. <br /> <br />They took large water tanks, <br />Strictly for drinking, every drop, <br />And the need for refills on the land <br />Was the only excuse to stop. <br />Money for water, money for bait <br />Was gotten from <br />The sale of fish we never ate. <br /> <br />We saw many a wonder, <br />A tigress sunset reflected <br />Upon a sleepy-time twilight. <br />The sky being rent asunder <br />By a thunderstorm erected <br />Along a wake-up-afraid night. <br /> <br />Hydropolis kept getting bigger <br />And extensions to the raft were made, <br />More people kept moving in, <br />To not work, almost everyone stayed. <br /> <br />And we were children born into Hydropolis, <br />Not knowing what outside life was about. <br />But we never kick up much fuss about it, <br />Never cry, never sob, never pout.<br /><br />K. Jared Hosein<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fantasy-children-of-hydropolis/
