An Ode To The Pouch

A rough draft- inspired by my frustrations, failures, and fantasies.


This little thing is nurtured

Like a newborn babe-

Dairy and milk and cheese

And plenty of sweets

are the only thing to ease

it’s insatiable demand to be pleased.


It’s kept covered and safe

Like a newborn babe-

protected from the wintery cold

and sweltering sun

it remains within the folds

almost too big to hold.


It grows and it grows

Like an unborn pain-

It never ceases, never slows

And the dreams of a day

where it no longer shows

have become persistent, ugly foes.


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