We live in a society where
Juvenile justice gives gillies
To "hunters" chasing walking fishes
No baits, no hooks, just guns
Bang! and we get plucked from the pool.

We ain't their prey
But we are to those whom they pray
We ain't for food
Yet to them
We are invaluable goods
Our every slice carries a unique price.

Some of us are lucky
As their bullets bounce off
Our scales and hit them
Right in the leg
Breaking their bones.

A few days later
They are back with ammo boots
Hunting again.