lost in a box of shredded wheat

we could all be boxes of cerial
sitting on shelves
bought and eatten up
bought and placed beside other boxes
of which we form relationships
and we watch eachother grow old
and die

some die faster than others
some get bugs and die
some are just made wrong
and sent back to where they came from
so maybe we're no better than a box of cerial
the media tatoo's our minds and bodys
advertisments are part of life,
not choice

we open
we close
we get stail
we grow weak
our lives grow empty

you can be cornflakes
i'll be coco-puffs
he's corn pops
and she's cheerios
but in the end
we're all cerial



(*cereal+serial=cerial)