Space peas vs pomegranates


The battle’s over before it’s begun,
A spark inside each head and the space peas have won.
The frazzled and rambling pomegranate minds
Roll their little bodies over,
compliant into their coffin so shiny and silver,
Where they writhe and crunch as
Red juice creeps out and away, painfully.
The lid glides shut silently and all is dark.
The space peas roll slowly on,
their conscience is a pile of ice cold ash,
their hearts shine, mercilessly.