The Whale

I once saw a whale
who had sad eyes
because he was a whale,

and there was no one like him.
To be a friend to him
To understand what it was like to be a whale

To understand all his whale-y talk
And how his whale-y mind thought
He knew he was no shark

He could never stand the smell of blood.
He wondered why
He was always hungry, sometimes sleepy, always dreamy

Some of the other fishes said,
"He's whale-y crazy!"
It wasn't their fault, they had never seen a whale before.

But the tragedy was
that he had grown to believe them
It was the oft-repeated line that caused

him not to want to be a whale,
but to be anything else
but a whale, never a whale.

But then the whale gradually
Learnt to be glad, that he was a whale
The other fishes were glad too

Because he brought joy, just by being himself
And not somebody else
He grew stronger so he could go deeper

To plough the ocean's depths

He had a whale of a time