sounds like the sulphur of rotten egg
and smells like the slipping tumbling smashing
onto the floor
as it falls falls falls
reeks of blood-red regret and echoes the stench of car exhaust
is the rotten egg that smashed onto the floor
and the time it takes to clean up your life
is the mixing bowl unscathed by foulness
able to continue and produce sweetness
there's always another egg
and in time the stench dissipates
Life will be as good as chocolate cake once again
There is fiction. There is life. What is the difference?
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