It sits there, amongst its brethren.
Thrown in the back, out of view...
behind his newer, pristine siblings.
Brought onto the shelf, exactly the same
as the rest; having the same goodness
sought by all who absolutely love soup.
Yet, this can is overlooked...
by virtue of a small tear on its label.
Condemned by an insignificant imperfection.
Encased in steel, lined with tin;
the delicious ambrosia is preserved
equally across its line.
Its label is a mere distinction
of what is truly of worth...
what's inside.
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 11:53 AM UTC
It sits there, amongst its brethren.
Thrown in the back, out of view...
behind his newer, pristine siblings.
Brought onto the shelf, exactly the same
as the rest; having the same goodness
sought by all who absolutely love soup.
Yet, this can is overlooked...
by virtue of a small tear on its label.
Condemned by an insignificant imperfection.
Encased in steel, lined with tin;
the delicious ambrosia is preserved
equally across its line.
Its label is a mere distinction
of what is truly of worth...
what's inside.
Written on 12/09/2016.
