deepundergroundpoetry.com
the life of fishes
The life of fishes
I bought a cod fish
The fishmonger wrapped it in
A newspaper
I put in in the kitchen sink
Looked it in the eyes
Any recognition
Between two being
Nothing
I cut its head off and gutted it
Its eyes looked like
Black diamonds in the shade
Of the stolen
I fried the fish, ate it
Not long ago it had been swimming
In the cold sea
Avoiding nets and hooks
Did it have friends?
Who would lament its demise?
I wouldn`t like to be a fish
Ending up in a frying pan, but
We are fishes too, always get caught
In someone’s war.
I bought a cod fish
The fishmonger wrapped it in
A newspaper
I put in in the kitchen sink
Looked it in the eyes
Any recognition
Between two being
Nothing
I cut its head off and gutted it
Its eyes looked like
Black diamonds in the shade
Of the stolen
I fried the fish, ate it
Not long ago it had been swimming
In the cold sea
Avoiding nets and hooks
Did it have friends?
Who would lament its demise?
I wouldn`t like to be a fish
Ending up in a frying pan, but
We are fishes too, always get caught
In someone’s war.
Published 14th Apr 2017
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14th Apr 2017 2:25pm
I guess the difference in the former and latter are personal choice.
Its eyes looked like
Black diamonds in the shade
Of the stolen
Just another term for blood diamonds.
Its eyes looked like
Black diamonds in the shade
Of the stolen
Just another term for blood diamonds.
