#TSL
Pandorathon May 10 A burnt toast ruing its plight in poetic language
I was ready for duty
To be golden and crusty
To bring joy and sustenance
I jumped happy in the toaster
Fate was awaiting me
The dial was not fitted
To my delicate constitution
I find myself discarded, left alone,
Burned, rejected, shamed,
To be thrown away, ostracised
Even rodents won’t accept
A burnt crumb from me
Bitterness is not in fashion.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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