I stare at the fish tank in wonder.
Not because of the beauty of the fish,
like everyone else.
I stare at the fish tank in wonder,
because I feel a connection to them.
I see myself in these fish,
who swim around hopelessly,
crashing into the glass,
never learning.
First, I wondered,
'What would it be like to be a fish?
Stuck in a tank, with no way out,
but trying nonetheless?
Confused and filled with wanderlust —
a wanderlust that's never cured?
What would it be like to be a fish,
stuck in a glass tank,
viewing the world moving
and changing around it and wishing
to be a part of it?'
And then I realized:
I know.
I know exactly
what it's like.
Because I live it.
I am a fish.
Plucked from the sea,
trapped in a tank.
A cage.
I swim and swim and swim,
trapped, trapped, trapped.
And then I die.
Die, die, die.
Wonder why?
I was trapped.
Trapped for far too long,
watching the world pass by.
Then I am flushed down
the toilet, forgotten.
But I am free.
YOU ARE READING
recycled poetry
Poetry❝i wish i was writing something special, but these words have been used before and there's no originality to it at all. i'm just reusing phrases until they're worn out, like musty library books or hand-me-down clothes.❞ from ❛hand-me-down poetry❜ i...
