Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2011
I once kept some fish
I called one Pythagoras
He swam round and round the tank
And to be frank
I thought he was working out the cubic capacity.
To keep them fit
I fed them on flakes because that's all it takes
But he was a sod he took out a fishing rod
Caught all the others and ate all his brothers
I was a bit peeved but then I conceived
An idea..Oh lord what a killer.
In his tank I put a mirror
Well.
When he saw his reflection
Section by section he ate himself
And finished with his head.
Now Pythagoras is dead.
You didn't expect a happy ending did you?
John Edward Smallshaw
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw  68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems