Mermaid in a bathtub, nowhere to swim to, just staying alive.
Only in the deep and dark and wild blue ocean can she thrive.
She is kept here, a trophy, a thing to be possessed and gawked.
She is in this city, in whose palaces and streets she’s never walked.
The world was hers in that dark and velvet ocean, her life before.
She swam from Maine, all the way to the point Tera Del Fuego shore.
Now she is kept as a prisoner by a greedy man, as she molts, withers.
She cannot swim in this tub, and in the tank she despondently slithers.
What is a miracle and a wonder to the humans, but something to steal?
What is a wild animal, a free being, but a proud child to bring to heel?
She’s lost her luster and she does not sing now, all of home taken away.
She speaks the blasphemers’ curses, to her captor’s God she will not pray.