The Lonesome Fisherman
I'm tired of fishing for truth,
and catching only,
Worm eaten boots
And plastic flim-flam,
of egotistical minds,
This river is polluted!
With a million fallen dreams,
And spineless fish,
That cannot see,
So I raise a glass
To the strangers.
To the outsiders.
Who swim in isolation.
In deeper darker waters.
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