Some days I wish I was a piranha where
I could snap at anyone who pesters me,
Which on days like this is everyone.
How can this be called a life?
Staring past the glass each and every day
Is enough to make anyone go crazy,
Year after year chums come and die,
Why should I bother with the trivial dance of friendship
Anymore?
Especially with that stupid goldfish
With those big and innocent eyes
That annoying childlike eagerness
That only lasted so long before
I took a bite of those juicy black orbs.