Hot Soup And Cold Bread Poem by Brian Hinckley

Hot Soup And Cold Bread



Hot soup and cold bread
mark the paths of my day.
Almost mocking me,
Panera gives french onion
a bad name.

My day has gone
from good to poor
in a single heartbeat;
continues to sink.

I let myself fall, again,
only to have it end as usual.
Hot soup and cold bread,
you are a poor substitute.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Greenwolfe 1962 07 August 2008

Figurative language con sometimes be a good illustration if used properly. I thought this one was. GW62

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Brian Hinckley

Brian Hinckley

Buffalo, New York
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