Life is Like...

 Oh,

cardboard container filled

with rounded darkness.

Every bite I take

from your cache of goodies

is like the epitome

of achieved happiness.

No drugs.

No illegal stimulants.

Just a single piece of chocolate

melting away

on my tongue.


Oh,

box of chocolates

you never seem to re-appear

when the holiday season is near.

Not one person,

family excluded,

bothered to scrounge up

the coins to buy you from

the ninety-nine cent store.

And, like me, you are now empty,

wishing someone would fill you up again.

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