A poem.
Image via Wikipedia
Popped tabs
of silver and blue cans
Cylindrical bullets of liquid energy
but somehow the taurine
doesn’t phase me
Don’t even like the stuff
bitter tart
metallic after-taste
But its free
8.3 fluid ounces
and still no wings
Not a complete let down
more awake
only for the taste
that won’t go away
Couldn’t sleep with it
and oddly wanting more
Don’t even like the stuff
just want my wings
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