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The Man In My Trunk
They never stay for long,
But I try to help them when I can,
But I couldn’t save him.
I love them so much
I have a fettish for the brown ones
I like the freckled too
They always know how to make me grin.
Just weeks ago,
My sister went to the store.
She saw one sitting there, idle
He was facing the wall.
He’s wasn’t brown nor freckled,
Instead, he was tan.
She looks around her, and quickly grabs him
He is stuffed into her sack.
She wrapped him so tightly no air could escape.
“Did you grab a certain something for your sister?” My mom asked.
My sister showed her the bag.
“You bet I did.” She replied.
They walked to the car,
and put him in the trunk.
I now sit by the door,
Waiting for their arrival.
The car pulls up the driveway
This is the moment of truth.
She comes in, and hands me the bag.
My smile stretches ear to ear,
As I run up to my room
To examine my prize
I place him on the floor,
He falls on his side.
He lies still.
My sister picked I new one,
Hopefully her streak won’t end,
She always picks the perfect one.
I slowly pick him up in my hands,
I admire his sunkissed skin,
He comes closer, and closer to my face.
I have anticipated this moment for a while now.
I am nervous as his skin touches my lips.
I expect him to be different in a bad way,
But instead,
He is far better than the rest.
I have learned today that you cannot judge anything,
Especially by the color of their batter-so to speak.
You have to try new things,
And appreciate the good and the bad.
However, ever since then,
Whenever I go to the store,
I always grab that delectable one.
I occasionally take the brown or freckled,
But my heart stays with that special,
Pumpkin muffin.
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