Live in a Fishbowl
shimmering gold
the scaly beast flounders
all eyes watching
the poor thing die
he lives in the bowl
that all look upon
life itself stares
sweeping it's briny eyes
searching the closed bowl
for the fish
who knows not what
deliciously remote dangers
the life in a fishbowl entices
no one thinks
of what the beast feels
to be observed all hours of the day
to be charted
and fed upon schedule
no one knows
how it feels to be measured
compared and contrasted
having ogling eyes gaping
like round swollen grapes
pressed upon the glass
you feel the stare
but can do nothing about it
surrender
the dark looming silence
closes in
sinking its malevolent
crisp white teeth
embedding them
deep into the girl's
petrified mind
eyes bugging open
her heart stands
still
unmoving to the
terrible shift that has come
as prophecy forbade us
warning the bitter tears of human kind
of it's ominous appearance
we can say no more
the future holds
a past so present
it cannot continue
without
perilous choices
and cold decisions
and, somewhere,
that ever-present hope
that the darkness would
disappear.
