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Writer's pictureDarkling Thrushes

Star Cookies

Updated: Apr 30

As I lie between sleeping and waking, 

It dawns on me the fact of what I’ve been: 

And how far upward to the sun I’ve climbed, 

But to slip from the ruin of my mind. 

 

I did not make it to the penthouse suite, 

Nor add my towel to Egyptian beach; 

Oppressed by all of those from dawn to dawn, 

I wouldn’t want to be what they’ve become. 

 

And so, I laugh the laughter of the wise, 

But hear! There is a moan upon the street, 

That rises to my window on the second floor, 

I grab my coat and hat, I’m out the door. 

 

And away, with the throngs that run away, 

To be butchered while I steal a Star Cookie, 

From the shattered glass of my bakery, 

Although I never saw my killers’ face. 

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