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Ode to the Moldy Brown Thing in the Back of My Frige
Open the door to your icy prison,
rooting for a midday snack and there
I find you. Jammed in the back
alone and forgotten.
Was it months?
Dare I say a year?
How long did you lay
Dormant? Hoping that one day you'd
Be used.
I can't decipher you.
A blob of grotesque brown
with a sheen of white hair on your speckled scalp.
I fear to open the lid of the
Tupperware container. Fearing
the smell that will perturb my nostrils.
I'm sure in your prime you were beautiful.
Aromatic and tasty.
Even though I forgot you, it appears
Time did not.
You did not age well you moldy brown thing in the back of my fridge.
You've survived fro so long and it's sad
That it's up to me to put you out of your suffering.
Why is fate so cruel to make everything in life
have an expiration date?
I close my eyes as I open you.
Tears well up, but not from your stench.
they are tears of sadness.
You ooze out, and slop into the trash.
I will try to forget about you moldy brown thing in the back of my fridge.
Just like everything else lost in life.
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It's moldy. It's brown. IT'S IN THE BACK OF MY FRIGE!