TITANIC Poem

Oh she is, she really is divine,
The four funnelled flagship of White Star Line,
Ploughing through the Atlantic sea,
who knew lying under it was her destiny,

Why go so fast? You know there is ice ahead!
By this time tomorrow most will be dead,

To Shed some light in the gloom, the titanic is still a tomb,
not all the bodies have been found,
but others were and put under ground,
but there was a fire burning below,
too much heat has ignited some coal,
If they don’t burn it quick then they will be known,
as the ship that burned in the Atlantic so cold,

But despite this then no one must worry,
for all they know the ship is in a fury,
“Wait what? She’s sinking? All hands to the boats!”
Oh how I hope I don’t need to float.

By Charlie