sleepy temple poetry book

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Goldfish

Swim right, swim left. 
You will not find a way out,
and you will
Suffocate if you step out.

You cannot drown
because you breathe the water.

Swimming in circles.

"It's dead." 
A bloated little orange corpse.

"We can buy another one."
Flushed down the toilet.

My obituary is a receipt, 
my corpse trash in the pipes
of the world's workings.
I am its sewage.

Little goldfish.

 



Anamel Aleta

#109 in Fantasy
#21 in Dark fantasy
#51 in Mystery
#13 in Paranormal

Story about: poems, dark, poetry

Edited: 29.07.2019

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