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MIDLIFE CRISIS
My life is measured out in spoons,
teaspoons.
Teaspoons of sugar.
“How many sir?”
“Three, just three.”
I nod and smile a tight smile.
My life is a bitter one,
I take sugar to sweeten it.
As the granules
sink in a brown murky
pool of tepid tea,
I feel time dissolving
into the past, a pool
of despair.
My failures and days are heaped
in spoons,
teaspoons.
Teaspoons of sugar.
Three, just three.