The Fish In the Pond

I’ve been living in this pond for quite some time, I don’t jump at the first bait. I may nibble around the edges but I know the hook is my fate. I swim around creating ripples, maybe change shall meet this pond. I can’t think much of the outside world, of this pond I’m fond. I go down deep when it gets cold, there’s safety in the deep. How do you feel when the climb was rough but then you stand upon the peak? My world seems rather small perhaps you all are right. But in the safety of the deep, it’s like the darkest night. Every once in a while I start to think about what is outside. Then I remember, too many rules that I cannot abide. Still it would be nice to leave this pond and maybe see a stream. I’ve only seen it in photographs it seems much like a dream. After all I’m not unhappy this is where I make my home. But once in a while I wonder, that’s when my spirit starts to roam. The pond becomes what I know so I stay inside the lines Still my eyes are open and hope for any signs…