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Vic Evora

The Blue Saucer

Life just doesn't care about our aspirations, or sadness. It's often random, and it's often stupid and it's often completely unexpected, and the closures and the epiphanies and revelations we end up receiving from life, begrudgingly, rarely turn out to be the ones we thought.
Khaled Hosseini

On the table, a blue saucer
With coffee stains in the middle
Small stirring spoon made of silver
Next to remains of a candle
 
In the middle of the table
Dried shriveled fruits in a basket
That’s way past being edible
Dust and cobwebs all over it
 
The air stale, moldy and musty
Thick layer of gunk on the floor
The window broken and filthy
Slightly ajar, the kitchen door
 
A loathsome presence in the air
Otherworldly uneasiness
In the sink dirty kitchenware
And an intrusion of roaches
 
Yikes!
 
With a flyswatter I smacked them down
Their bodies scattered on the floor
I sighed and wore a weary frown—
How long to cleanse this room once more?
 
The task ahead seemed never-ending
With filth and grime in every nook
I dreaded hours I’d be spending—
A challenge tougher than it looked!
 
10-02-2024
Vic Evora
 
A poem just for laughs!
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