Wrong One

Sitting on a small boat.

Surrounded by salty dark blue water.

Swinging the sharp

Hook around the cloudy sky.

The worm drowns

In the fresh calm water.

Waiting to catch my stinky fish for dinner.

The bright yellow sun warms up my cold flesh.

Water invades the boat.

The fishing pole moves viciously like a hurricane.

An innocent creature has been caught

On my harmful trap.

As I reeled in, an ugly

red eyed piranha popped out.

The hook was stuck in the piranha’s eye.

Blood squirted on my face.

I threw the piranha back.

I sacrificed another worm and waited.

The sun disappeared, while the shiny stars appeared.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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