my sleeping fish

I picked the fish that was sleeping
I was tired, and found a kindred spirit in its slumber
But even when I took it home
And put it in a tank ten times the size
Of the tiny plastic cup it arrived in
And gave it toys and filters
Instead of the world of nothing it had stayed in
It didn’t wake up
And then I realized
My fish was dead
It had died without ever getting a home
It had died inside its tiny plastic cup
Where all it could do was turn in tight circles
And wait for death or adoption
I don’t know which one my fish was hoping for
But it got both