Just like a soup,
we keep stirring a loop,
our lives also follow,
the same patterns.
Hearts ache for an escape,
and we find ourselves late,
in the hands of our fate,
we keep passing the dates.
One fine day,
when all our chores are done,
expectations met,
duties fulfilled,
sitting in the sun,
our hearts still ache,
we still want to escape,
find a fresh loop,
before we burn our soup.
I enjoyed the metaphor of stirring the soup pot for how we spend our lives, ever active but constrained, and just ensuring we are not singed. ‘Passing the dates’ struck me as did ‘finding a fresh loop.