One
One
There was only one,
worm in the can.
He was all alone
but knew his fate
was sealed.
Born and bred to catch fish.
Alive for a reason,
and a purpose.
Fate, to dance at the end of a line,
and end his time
on this earth.
How?
As breakfast, lunch,
or even dinner.
Sadly too small for any
of the above,
more than likely just
a snack.
Fate is fickle
the man drops the can.
The worm has been given
a reprieve.
Wiggle and giggle,
he moves toward freedom,
and a chance
at living another day.
The fisherman cheated
out of his catch,
by an accident.
The worm,
happy to have been
given one final opportunity,
out of a thousand...
and joyous at his success
in the end.
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