as i bit down on
two stale slices of wonder bread
with a thin
waxing of peanut butter
and jelly within,
i remember staringat the other kid's lunches.
what their mothers packed for them.
the neatly arranged metal
boxes
with a thermos of milk,
a bag of cookies,
a sandwich, what was that?
honey glazed ham?
an apple, some grapes, perhaps.
and then
the dagger to my heart,
the note
from a mother. with a big smile
sketched
saying be a good boy.
study hard, i love you,
you're the best.
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