NoExplination

She texted me to ask for milk, A query so surreal, For she was of the hungry ilk Who craved for cereal. Alas, I had no milk but soy, Which she was wary to deploy Within her bowl, Within her bowl, Her face showed she did not taste joy. Oh Special K! 'Twas not the day She meant for you to swim With Mister Two-Percent, and play Your tasty games with him. The box was done, your final breath Could only end in runny death. No creaminess, No creaminess, A soggy grave was all she left. All times, both good and bad, must end In peacefulness or pain. One moment, by your side a friend, The next, gone and estranged. While we still live, let's take cont