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Simba
Poems
Aug 2020
My fishing trip
There will always be
more than one fisherman.
( Especially,
the one before me.)
Who will ignoring the;
Private property.
No trespassing signs.
At that polluted pond.
Thinking I had the
best bait.
I thought, I had caught
the prize of the day!
It looked good!
To think that fish was
a keeper!
Only to realize.
It was an easy catch.
It was caught before.
It didn't matter what kind
of bait I used.
I had to throw it back.
There was more than
one hook.
And it won't be
the last.
I was wrong fishing in
that pond.
Ignoring
those signs.
I will never go back.
That is the end.
Of,
My fishing trip
Simba
Written by
Simba
62/M/Massachusetts
(62/M/Massachusetts)
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