Even if the submarine is yellow
It’s hidden still, deep below the light.
Its crew works around the clock
So it’s bright all morning, noon, and night.
So even though it never feels like evening
The submariners must long for the sun,
Which they’ll be apart from, underwater
Until they’re told the mission’s finally done.
So it is to be apart from loved ones,
Trapped by distance out of your control,
Like a bird migrating by its lonesome
Or a puzzle one piece short of whole.
If you feel longing, I wish you peace;
If your family is making you consider a career in the submarine corps because they just won’t stop, I hope they cease.