The Final Flush

I'd bought him from the local pet shop,
A wide smile had graced my face.
I'd taken him home in a plastic bag,
To a waiting aquarium with a nice wooden base.

Spot was his name for a black mark clashed against his golden scales
Bright orange was the rest of him, as were all his fins and tails.
I thought for sure he'd be the perfect pet to keep;
Yet here I sit on my bathroom floor, trying desperately not to weep.

I fed him daily after school, at precisely four o'clock;
He came out to eat the pellets floating, from his favorite place under the big grey rock.
He seemed content in the spacious place;
Since he'd outlived all his friends I'd bought him that had vanished mysteriously without a trace.

I'm not exactly sure what it was that caused him to pass away,
Although now I remember I haven't cleaned his tank for over ten days,
I got up from my place on the small carpet after shedding a few;
And I flushed my Spot down the toilet without any further ado.

Sometimes I wonder if he's still around at the end of the day,
But to know where he is now – all I can do is pray.
The neighbor's cat next door will always be a suspect of his demise to me;
But I'll be forever happy knowing that my precious Spot is free.