The world is full of broken biscuit people
Julie got pregnant on a whim
She said they used the withdrawal method
He withdrew in London while she was still in Manchester
It would bring them closer together, she said
So he moved to America to prove this theory
She decided he would be back when the whim was three
Where there's a whim, there's a way
Broken biscuit people are philosophical
It’s in their DNA
He’s coming back
Ten years gone he’s still coming back
Julie sat down with a cup of tea and her favourite digestives
The biscuit always tasted better when she dunked it into her tea
But the biscuit broke, and her life unravelled before her
He was never coming back
The words finally hit home
The world is full of broken biscuit people
Broken biscuit people.
-
Author:
Paul Bell (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 4th, 2026 06:39
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship, Teddy.15, rebellion_in_sanity, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments8
Such a great metaphor. There is nothing more upsetting than opening a a package of biscuits and finding them broken unless of course it is them breaking in one's tea of coffee thereby spoiling both. A good read that applies to more than biscuits
I know, should be a hanging offence. lol
Thought it was
A compelling, heartbreaking poem. So pure from the heart, well written, my friend. The poem resonates with anyone who has experienced the fleeting nature of love and the sorrow that often follows, encapsulating the emotional depth through its language, structure, and thematic exploration.
Tough love at that.
🌹❤️
Where there's a whim, there's a way
Tongue in cheek humour, maybe the biscuits should have been liquorice allsorts! An excellent read more than once. 🌹
Like liquorice allsorts, jelly babies, chocolates.
Take them running with me.
I don't know what made me hit the 'fave'. I found the poem to be one of those strange ones which didn't depend on a volta or hook etc etc. Somehow it managed to seep in through the way it was framed, the language. Perhaps my mind told me it had a off-hand quality, not trying to announce its presence, yet crafted with care. Long story short - loved it.
That's a great monocle you have there.
Julies demeanor crept up on you, and you had to fav her endeavor.
Well that just takes the biscuit...... (someone had to use it, surely - so it might just as well be me...)
It had to be said, and I was waiting for someone with class to say it.
Still waiting?
Paul, this is devastating in its quietness. I love the title. The humor opens the door, then the ache settles in and refuses to leave. That final repetition lands hard. Excellent job, dear friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Love, should come with a health warning.
💯 Certainly.
Am I allowed to laugh? You're hilarious.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.