Sorry Feet

I'm dumping all my old poems here from a website that's about to disapear

I am the little fish that flees your net,

with scales that shine like gold and silver rings,

and wont to swim in deep enough to wet

the man who list to fish; the net he brings.

I show my beauty off and cause him pain,

I swerve in circles round his sorry feet.

Oh youth that casts your line for me in vain,

Please realize that our hands shall never meet,

I am already captured by a man.

Although my shallow heart does hurt for you,

I must not have you ruin our plan

for he and I to swim away; adieu.

Oh youth, don't weep about your turned down wish.

Young man, this pond has many other fish.