What is life? Poem, by Sarah_and_Elizabeth, at My poetic side

I am sitting in a fancy mall with my friend.

Good thing I called.
We needed to escape our heads.

We were spinning from the race. What a waste.
What an empty chase, this life of pleasure.

But Mmm.
Cinnabon.
I'm a hypocrite.
One hit and I'm gone.

"What is life?" she asks.

"That is a good question."
All wit is lost in frosting.
There is no question about what this will cost.

Calories shmalories! "What is a bon?"

No clue.

All that's left is for us to bask In this cinnamon glory.

End of story.

Author: Sarah_and_Elizabeth ( Offline)
Published: January 19th, 2016 00:31
Comment from author about the poem: Pastry ispired philosophy. Don\'t ask me what I\'m talking about. I have no idea. I was just having fun (there was literal cinnabon involved). Which is probably what the whole world is trying to do. Live despite all the \"living\" we are forced to do. What is happiness without meaning? Scary to think the pleasure of cinnabon glory BECOMES meaning for some people. I think that could be a metaphor for more, or I could just be full of frosting. Full of empty sugar words devoid of nutrition. Frost thier ears!! (*someone takes her bon away and decides sugar is dangerous for this girl*)
Category: Short story
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