I'm a fresh young whole-gutted
Tail meat who sail along the boats,
Caught in nets and fried in pans
With a frowning face but never miss.
To eat and leave a big loud burp!
After a full tummy judge me yummy,
But after a look, all run into many
Shouting that's "Ugly and Bulgy".
State me lushy and bushy
What did this dwelling fish do so?
Except......Origin from Atlantis to Pole sea
Then the great tri-coloured ocean.
Hoping for new hope to seize my treasure
Not there to see how many eyes to measure,
When my large broad bodies and My filaments of dirt don't bother me.
Then what business that other noses have?
Only shark swim in wide open seas,
Why not me? Who tagged me useless?
Internet showed its sites to eat but never to treat,
I'm not a drunken or a mean or a stalker or a psycho
This is the way how he threw me to thrive new hope.
A vitality spirit called "Monk Fish"
YOU ARE READING
POOR MAN'S LOBSTER
PoetryDive into the tale of the Monk Fish, a creature of resilience and defiance. Caught in nets, fried in pans, yet never losing hope. From Atlantis to the vast ocean, it seeks acceptance amidst judgmental eyes. But its spirit remains unbroken, its vital...
