Going Nowhere

First published in "On the Rusk". 

In my glass bowl that is filled to the brim,
I dive and splash and sprinkle and swim
Periodically, food showers down as rain
you may think I really can't complain
of my calm, equable, foreseeable life,
yet with it, I share a rancorous strife
For I am constantly kneeling over with despair,
as I swim in circles, going nowhere
I have no destination to reach, nothing to achieve,
my life is a cliche, or so I believe
I am a good looking fish, of amber and gold
others feel so as well, as I am incessantly told
People admire my skin's striking, handsome hue
and how it would contrast with the sea's royal blue
Such words elicit nostalgia and sorrow,
and how I covet for a miracle tomorrow
To be returned to the sea, my family, I wish
or perhaps the arrival of a companion- another pleasant fish
I am enclosed, imprisoned by walls of glass,
watching helplessly as my owners pass
They are oblivious, they will never learn
what a living creature does desire and yearn
He wants independence, he wants to be free
he wants to fool about, as his heart fills with glee
He hankers to travel, to be creative, to find
his very own species, with which he must be aligned
To search for his very own natural food, he craves,
or to play about and splash with the waves
And swim until his fins can take it no more,
or use his imagination, or thrive and explore
But for now, I must live life as I must,
though I am afraid I shall never adjust
to the tedious, monotonous, repetitive routine
that an animal like myself must withstand- proud and marine
But at one point, I am sure one will answer my plea,
and before I know it, I'll be back in the sea