My friend the Octopus

 

 

I will never write a haiku about you,

For I will never truly know you

 

I don’t know what thoughts pass through your head,

But I know that you are intelligent and love games

That your memory is good

 

Some people say that you are ugly and strange. But to me, well…

In your own particular way,

Sometimes,

Like when you are

Covered in flashing colours,

All over your body

And I watch entranced the pulses of light

The changes in texture,

You are beautiful

 

Too beautiful to eat or experiment on

 

Many find it hard, to empathise with you

Yet your Pain for it to work

Must be the same urgent vital thing that humans feel

And fear

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