Bill

Poem By A.J Fleet

I have a fish his name is Bill he has a dream he'd like to kill. I watch him floating in his bowl, his minute brain a pained black hole. At night I wake and feel his stare, he wishes he could breath the air, to carry out his planned attack, a troubled soul, insomniac.

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The Unfortunates

I was born at half past one with eyes a bulging blue. I never got to know my mum she passed at half past two.
There was a church, a burial, followed by eulogy. I came home to condolence cards, new toys and nursery.

I doused the house in turpentine, sealed widows up with tape. Sadly it burnt down to the ground my dad did not escape. My Granddad came to pick me up and locked me in a cage. And there I spent my first year, till he died of old age.