jelly – a poem

photo credits here and here, edited

by yvette

A plate of jelly, brightly-coloured but dull
Lay dejectedly on the kitchen table
Reluctantly abandoned but not forgotten
Clumsily made by small hands
The same hands that are now trembling in fear

Rising screams and fed-up shouts
Crack across the room like lightning
Tiny, young, frightened hands
Big, rough and ugly ones
Both stained red

But as soft cries
Break out into the dark of the dawn
As the world shatters
And crumbles apart
The jelly naught
But shakes

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