I’ve been gone for two whole years
living with no pleasure
sailing the seven seas
in search of buried treasure.
I have a map in my hand
but no compass for direction
my ship is old, old as sand
but has cannons for protection.
I’ve searched the artic
but just found ice
I’ve searched the Indian
maybe once or twice
but still found nothing
not a grain of rice.
When I wanted to give up,
the heavens always struck.
But sent me false alarms
to “keep my spirits up”.
I’m convinced I wont find gold
before I get too old
no fortune for the brave
my fortunes been foretold…
Poetry Written By Jacob Armendariz 