Submitted Date 12/11/2019

The idle bowl of cereal and milk stay trapped together

Mutually assured in misery


The spoon taps impatiently at a distance

A thudding that transforms into a rigid groove

A rigid groove that tries to break up the monotony


The hours fade and dissipate into less than what they were

The milk drains out

and meets the sewage,

it's rather bitter long-lost brother in some other life


Harkens back to the box that birthed the innocent cereal

It lies nowadays irrelevant on a cold-blooded sidewalk

Even the large black trash bags, staying close in packs has abandoned it


Some stumbling, bumbling, drunk

and disturbed twat kicks it over into the road

Reducing the box to just a brand, one of a million

Divorced from its maker

Hopefully it may be recycled at some point

Into what, the world will never know


At last, the bowl knocks over and collides with the floor

Crippled like the old man that lays helpless on the couch

Unable to call his own helping hand, a loved one, make arrangements or reach what might be his last glass of water

Hanging on in mind and body to some foolish Boomer illusion


The thudding morphs into a bold pounding

The mouth inches in feet closer

Hissing with a battered tongue

Every remaining taste bud, no different from a fallen angel God gave up on


The mouth that cheated on the concept of remorse

Denied asylum to the refugee known as enlightenment arrives at once to collect a payment

A payment long overdue sadly


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