Crisp until it pops,
popping until it breaks,
breaking until it's flattened
into the thinnest of pancakes.
Bright as the sun
shining freely in the sky
until the clouds consume
as the beauty quickly dies.
Poignant as the prose
that changes lives instantly
until the grinder chews it
and spits the point out as empty.
Crispness in the air
floating in and out
until the flatness battles
to crush it without doubt,
but as the flat tries
its hardest and best
the crisp will not give up
lying and at rest.
The flat will fight
to infect and kill
leaving the only question to be
does the crisp possess the will?
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