The coffee tasted like something scooped out of a Mississippi toilet after thanksgiving. As I watched my roommate shovel the eggs and bacon down his throat, I suddenly lost my appetite. But that’s not why I attended breakfast.
I wanted to see Sam before her shift ended. I sipped on my shit-water as I watched her from afar. She was always busy, helping one bum through some crisis or another. But before 7am struck, she called for the cafeteria’s attention.
“Before I leave,” she stated, “I’d like to read one of my poems.”
There were a few inaudible groans. Most paid her no attention. “Hey everyone! Shut the fuck up!” my roommate shouted.
The cafeteria fell silent.
“Thank you,” Sam said. “This poem is called ‘Hope’. No matter how dark things may seem, tomorrow is a new day.”
She pulled out a sheet of paper, unfolded it, and began reading. “I believe in a future where no man is less than,” she read. “Where no woman is treated like urine; flushed down the drain, like a past that has no name…”
A few in attendance started to shake their heads.
“The future starts with us,” Sam continued. “So jump on the bus; this is the wagon train to the stars, we won’t stop until we reach Mars. So uplift each other’s dreams, let us not fall into despair, like the career of Harry Reems.”
The cafeteria was silent. It was the worst poem we’ve ever heard. But the roommate started to clap the I soon followed. Only the two of us applauded.
“Thanks again,” Sam said. “Enjoy your breakfast. Count your blessings, and I will see everyone tonight.”
I watched her fold the paper back up, place it back in her pocket, and depart the auditorium. While she may not have been much of a poet, I counted my blessings alright. I awaited for her return.
TO BE CONTINUED…
The Internet Ruined Everything 