The World is my Fish Tank

Everyone feels like this sometimes. i'm sure.

I am trapped inside the pretty pearl oyster shell,
I swim to the surface and I can hear,
Hear exchanges,
Of love, of lust, of hate, and of somewhere in between,
And I long to join them,
But cannot.

The tiny stones at the bottom of my bowl paint their reflection on the glass.
And I watch and I wait,
and think of a glimmer of a memory, swimming past,
When I was a part of the laughing and the cheers.

Suddenly,
The oyster shell cracks, the tank splinters into a thousand pieces.

The plastic castle that was once my home shatters.

And I am afraid.