I am haunted by the ghost of a fish…
A little fella who shared a tank in a pub
With oddly matched tank mates,
Who were all bigger and more important than he was.
Trapped in a bare three foot by one foot tank,
He had no chance.
Born on the same thread
Along which we all dance,
He had curtailed circumstances…
Utterly alone,
With nowhere to hide,
No hope,
Bullied,
Outranked for food,
And in desperation
He buried himself in gravel
At the bottom of the tank.
He committed suicide
Because his waking life was so miserable.
But I remember him…
And I'm telling you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem