The pot sits on the shove, the flames likcking it’s bottom.
It blackens up and heats and stews
Arguments are not forgotten.
As the day heats, so too the pot.
Injustices are percieved.
You said hello, or so you thought, “How’s your day?” as well
But heard was “You’re a rotter, you’re a tosser.”
The simmering reaches boiling point
Chaos erupts, the pot explodes
Contents flying indiscriminately
Until empty once more, flat, drained.
The simmering stew, a student again.