Blog
Monday, May 01, 2006
-12:29 PM
The kid sits on her stool
Counts her M&Ms
Sorts them by their colours
And takes delight in them everytime
She's done with them, she's thrilled
The kid calls for her mother to see, but in vain
Her mother's gossiping with the neighbours
They gossip.
"I heard Mrs McGhee went under the knife!" says one
"She's so plastic," replies the other
Obviously she's jealous.
Their husbands gather on their nightly meetings
Of beer and more beer.
Real Madrid's just got some bloody new boy
He suits number 07 better
On evenings, the kid watched as her mother
Secretly slips out of the house
The affair her Daddy doesn't know about
Shh! Here's a sweet, don't tell Daddy!
The M&Ms. The red and yellow's fast fading
Her Daddy? He's not any better.
Of course, she receives yet another sweet
But it's from him instead.
Sugar Dreams had nice girls they say
Exotic blondes and brunettes too
As years past, the kid still sorts her M&Ms
But they seem colourless by now.
She doesn't bother to tell Mummy about it
One evening as usual while the kid lies in bed
Her parents slip through the house' window
Each back from their rendezvous of lust
Both rush to give the kid her goodnight kiss
Before they rush to bed lest the other party knows
Wait! Their daughter isn't there!
On her Victorian bed lies her wet pillow
It's stained with fresh tears
Now the kid's parents began to see old stains too
There's a note lying by a glass jar
"M&Ms are grey and white now, I hate them."
Her parents turn to look at each other,
Not guilt-stricken yet.
Then they turn to the glass jar placed beside the note
It's not just one jar they realize
But an army of tall glass figures
Transparent, revealing it's contents.
1029 sweets. Not one less.
