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November 18, 2024
"Mes de los Muertos"

The Gold Fish

By Ferris E. Jones

The Gold Fish

Time did not ravish my failure
To defend your honor my sister.
I stood in fear,
When I should have fallen.
The beating I took from years
Still paints in my tears,
Our fathers swarm of memory,
And a walk home from the carnival.
The joy you held in your hand
Was taken from you by others.
The fish that lay dying,
Has now become your brothers.






Article © Ferris E. Jones. All rights reserved.
Published on 2018-07-09
Image(s) are public domain.
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