Years flow by me
Like whiskers of cats.
My life swirls like
A fresh pot of chili.
There is no perfect chili.
Chunks hide in the broth
As if stalking prey.
Mine has too many.
I am jealous of your bowl,
But I must finish mine
To start over with a clean bowl
And get some ice cream.
My favorite is always sweet.
Never old or melted.
Just sweet.
Never bitter or alive.
Just sweet.
https://youtu.be/mWhp_1yh7i4
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