My Gold Fish Ran Away

My Goldfish Ran Away

by Justin Shaw

 

My goldfish ran away today

Gotta say, it caught me by surprise

The bowl was freakin’ empty

I couldn’t believe my eyes!

 

Dad says we could buy a new one,

they’re dirt cheap at the shop.

I couldn’t believe my Dad’s advice,

I was gonna hunt, and would never stop.

 

I ran to the butcher shop

two blocks down the street.

I wondered if Mr. Bobswood

was looking for a new source of meat.

 

I asked if he saw my fishy pal,

and here’s what he had to say:

“fishes don’t survive on land!

So he likely passed away!”

 

“Mr. Bobswood, that’s a dumb idea.”

My sassy tongue did speak.

“I’ll keep hunting for my aquatic chum

in this game of hide and seek.”

 

I ran to visit the baker,

that was on the local turf,

to see if any of his baked goods

contained a hint of surf.

 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Ratfunk”

I said, as I entered his store,

“My goldfish pal has scooted away,

and I can’t figure out what for.”

 

Ratfunk turned and looked at me,

across the shop he did pace,

“son, you might be outta luck,

for he’s in a better place.”

 

I laughed a bit and shook my head,

and decided to console.

“A better place for my fish

is at home inside my bowl!”

 

I kept hunting along down the street

to find the candle-stick maker

I hoped that he’d be better help

than the unobliging baker.

 

Mr. Razzlebooger was in his shop,

wrist deep-covered in wax.

I strolled right in, full of pomp

because I wanted the facts.

 

“I need some help, if you don’t mind!”

My wee voice did cry.

“My goldfish up and ran away!

And I really don’t know why.”

 

Razzlebooger took a breath

and stopped tending to his store.

“Little friend,” he said gently

“he’s not with us any more.”

 

“I know, you coot!” I shouted

as my anger began to burst.

“Why d’ya think I’m searching!?

This really is the worst!”

 

I left the shop fully enraged

and then suddenly grew weak.

“I should go home and get a drink,

because now I can hardly speak.”

 

I went back home and grabbed a cup

and filled it from the tap,

when in walked my mother,

and said “come sit upon my lap.”

 

“I heard you were out today,

hunting around the town.

I’m afraid I have some news, my son.
I think you should sit down.”

 

“I heard from the butcher, the baker, and the candle-stick maker

that your goldfish ran away.

That’s not completely true my son,

There’s more to it, I must say.”

 

“This morning when I checked the bowl,

I must admit I cried

when I noticed that your little friend

and floated up and died.”

 

I bit my lip, my cheeks they burned.

Oh, how did I wail.

I could not believe my mum

for telling this horrific tale.

 

I ran to my room and shut the door

and cried and I did screech

as I sunk into my pillow,

until I remember her speech

 

She said my friend had died.

She said it clearly without a hush.

Other townsfolk couldn’t say it straight,

they could only beat around the bush.

 

It must have taken courage,

for my mum to tell me that.

Yet I screamed at her and ran away

like a selfish little brat.

 

I got up and went back to her

my voice a little wheazy.

I told her what she said to me

could not have been that easy.

 

I told her that I loved her

and that I still miss my chum.

But I’ll always respect the honesty

that came for my dear old mum.

 

 

 

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