Our bubblegum relationship,
Its flavour dead by seventh chew,
Is down to simply chewing on
For sake of simply chewing on
This bland pastiche of sweeter times.

Except, perhaps, when asinine
Emotions make us blow up thin
With airs that, silent, stay within
Until they tear us with the pop
Of pistols at the Shoot’Em shop.

Perhaps, it’s time we spit it out
And stick it up Society’s seat.