My father was a fisherman,
as was his father before.
For generations we've sailed these seas,
dependable and sure.
Through storms and calm we've fished these waters,
through good times and through bad.
The ocean's bounty always provided,
Our lives secure and content.
But something's changed,
the catches dwindle, the ocean depleted.
Though we take the boats out daily,
they come back near empty.
The nets that once brimmed over with bass, cod, tuna and more.
Now hold but a scattered few fish,
more litter than life,
the ocean's bare seafloor.
They speak of overfishing,
demand's endless appetite,
Taking more than the ocean can bear,
its fragile balance upset.
Regulations and restrictions,
quotas set by the state.
But for our families,
they've come too late.
The ocean floor now barren,
devoid of life and greenery.
Overharvesting of fish has led to this ecology.
Algae bloom with vengeance,
while ecosystems are crumbling.
The nets return littered with plastic and chemical debris,
Polluting the seas, no fish left to feed.
Our village, once thriving from the generosity of the sea,
Now faces unemployment, bankruptcy, and instability.
I long for the days when the seas teemed with creatures,
When fishing villages like ours with life and purpose.
But overfishing's grim result is this harsh reality we face,
Empty oceans, idle boats - our livelihood erased.
My hope lives on for flourishing seas,
their abundance unleashed,
So future generations may again live as fishermen,
like my father and me.