I can think of nothing sadder than a goldfish in a bowl.

Swimming in tight circles, such a lonely fishy soul.

With your tiny bulbous eyes, that pine to see the sea.

Longing for a little lover, to share your dull eternity.

All you have for company is a silly plastic weed.

Nothing to look forward to, except tomorrow’s feed.

Some pathetic grubby pebbles form your universe’s base.

I see nothing but depression written on your orange face.

Is your memory so short that this all seems brand new?

Or is that 18-second thing entirely untrue?

Do you ever go to sleep in the darkness of the night?

And dream of evolution, growing wings and taking flight?

Such iridescent beauty, you’re the bauble of the sea.

And if you were my finned captive, I’d be sure to set you free.