A flexible piece of who knows what,
Wrapped in thin silver foil.
A light and dusty pink,
Becoming soft as it bathes in saliva.
Chew it, don’t swallow.
A constant motion of the jaw.
Monotonous, but not tiring.
Long-lasting flavor.
Sticky liquid bursts out.
Something different.
Sweet or sour.
The tastes compliment each other,
Like two friends at a celebration.
Stuck under a park bench,
Or on the bottom of my shoe.

I hope it doesn’t end up in my hair,
Or sticks to my new striped shirt.
Curbing my appetite,
Keeping me occupied.
Showing that I don’t really care.