"This is water," they tell me.
But all I see is a sculpted, magnificent display of plastic, decorated
With colours and pictures galore, shaped
Into a position so strange yet so pretty that perhaps
It might even distract you from noticing how little water you're actually having.
"This is imported water," they tell me.
As if drinking from the lakes of some random tropical island shall magically heal me
From all diseases and aches, as if
Drinking this very water shall leave my thirst quenched for longer periods of time, as if
It tasted better?
"This is healthy water," they tell me.
Yes, indeed. It absorbed all the nutrients and minerals and all the happy health benefits from
The insides of a factory and indeed,
Manmade chemicals are the best when it comes to
Manipulating our bodies (that's what they call health nowadays).
Yet regardless,
I slide the five bucks into their shaking hands and
I see a glimmer of relief within their eyes to which I shake my head.
I bring the bottle to my lips, allow the water to run down my throat and
I pause.
Since when did water begin tasting like dollar bills?
YOU ARE READING
Bittersweet | #Wattys2016
PoetryPoems aren't just meant to be read; they're meant to be tasted too. A short compilation of food-themed poetry; roughly around thirty in total. Anyone ready for their meal of a lifetime? :)
