Forgotten Pumpkin
You are not the object of my desire
You are but my Earl Grey tea, when I wanted Apricot
Bland, but sour
An obtuse, robust beast
Without a conscious
Without a soul
No compassion lies within
Taking and robbing what I don't lock away
How could I entertain the thought of such an enigma?
I displayed all my treasures for his deceitful eyes
Though he gleamed at a ruby or two
He ignored the splendor of the other jewels
Rejection intensified the desire for this undesirable
Now stuck with boxes of stale Earl Grey tea
The delicate tea bags too old to use
She cannot throw away the boxes because they spit her out
If they would only admire her splendor she would discard the boxes and sip on
her apricot tea again.
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