Fishermen are to be Feared

The Sea is teeming with Fish today,

You say.

It is always teeming with Fish,

Ready to answer your every wish.

You cast your Bait

And then await.

“It’s never too late.”

Your hook of False Worms,

It has lured your innocent prey,

You hold your grip firm,

And you begin to say:

“I have caught one to admire,

Do not scold me, it’s not dire.

I am not the Liar that you make me seem-

Oh, look how that river teems.”

Never satisfied

Will you continue to fish till all has dried?

You hold your prize,

And lock your eyes,

But only for a while.

“I do no harm!

I cast them back, you see.

After all,

They belong in the Sea.”

I do no harm

But it’s plain to see,

The scars you leave

As though they were

Your Enemy.

The mark of your Hook

Of Your False Worms

Remains a reminder

Of what you took.

You elate them

You suffocate them

But either way

Death’s written in Fate

Without any Bait.