Life is kind of like a plastic chewed up on bent back bottle
cap
When it starts out
It begins with all of its sides flat
Pure
Smooth
Blank canvas to paint our sins on
White pages and empty lines
To start a new map to the packets I got in the back
We don’t touch quite yet
The smooth bottle cap is removed and used
The bottle cap could care less
As all the fluid is drunk up below
Digested and contested
If I quite like that flavor
Or if it is garbage meant for the trash
It may sit there for weeks or years
Until boredom come along
The day the chewing and bending began
Until it didn’t and was put away
Life can chew you up
It can bend you too far back
To the point of conjecture
That causes a scream
But don’t worry because sometimes it is meant to be that way
How would one know if it be any different, if we stayed flat
on all sides?
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