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The Last Goldfish

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The last goldfish in the bag smiles blithely
Seemingly unaware that it is surrounded by the broken flesh of its kin –
The last remaining crumbs of the friends that once surrounded him
It’s a sad fate to face death in such a state
Face fixed in an expression of cheery obstinacy
Forever staring, staring through a plastic film into a world that salivates for its death.

This is the Unlucky Goldfish,
The cracker that witnessed the death of its brothers and sister before,
Watched as its giant creators crushed them into nothing with their powerful molars;
Up-down, death, up-down, death, up-down, crushed to death.
This is the snack that smiles back into the face of the Reaper
Smiling still because there is little else it can do.
Death comes to all goldfish, so what else is there?

I wish I hadn’t eaten them all so quickly though –
I’m still so hungry.




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