Ms. Pierre

Today I rushed home

To find that

The eggs were crushed

The meat was rotten

And the bread stale.

I took it all to Ms. Pierre

And she said to me

That you cannot bring back

That which is spoiled

Dead and rotten it shall remain.

Use it, though,

She did advise,

To fertilize your spring flowers

Make them strong and healthy

And to bloom in beauty
Never lasting.

The circle of love

A ring of roses

Tipped with thorns

Shall always start again

So do not worry

Over spoiled milk.