“Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.” Carl Sandburg


Thursday, June 6, 2013

day 6. bitter/Our lost Jungle




The peach was so delicious
juicy, sweet and cold
and being somewhat greedy
I desired more.

The pit looked kind of nutty
I cracked it open
wide, saw what seemed an almond,
stuffed it in my face.

Oh, the nasty sensation
after all the sweet
I gave a heaving shudder,
spat it on the ground.

Bitter, that peach pit, bitter.
Fair warning of life,
that in the midst of sweetness,
can hide bitter strife.

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