A strange recipe,
There seems a certain scarceness of plan to it all.
A summarized unfairness found to this madness,
Two parts chaos to each one part life and matter in equal balance.
A slight dose of loss and grievance, coupled with a dash of unpleasant discourse
and equal parts discouragement.
Break two hearts and empty them into the emulsion.
They'll be buried in there,
to be forgotten as individuals
and rendered part of the whole.
Dust with the sweetness of love,
loyalty
and fulfilled longing.
And present it all to someone special,
Only to find they don't like the bitter taste.
-
If each mans life was a dessert,
mine would be a dark cake, dry as the desert.
N.H.
