Purified Drinking Water

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
have you ever been trapped inside a refridgerator, unable to move and all u want is to feel wanted? A bottle of water has.

Submitted: September 20, 2009

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Submitted: September 20, 2009

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Purified Drinking Water
On the shelf I sit, Beside my competition.
Behind the glass, I watch the consumers pass.
Eyeing the merchandise they try each one.
I watch the clear door open, as the glass fogs up from the heat.
The cool surrounds me as I rest in full view.
After each creek of the door, the hands grow closer.
Im finally chosen by soft skin, my paitence wearing thin.
My head spins as my stomach faces the ceiling.
I attracted the wetness in the airand covered myself in it.








I was burning up in the holder wear I sit, in which I didn't fit.
The air blowing towards me wasn't enough to keep me cool.
My insides grew hotter with every flight, as I watched the cars glance by.
The moist lips surround meagain, parts of me exploding withevery kiss.
I was content with finaly being picked from that balcony in which I stood.
It was a boy, handsome and clean, sweet and nice, far from mean.
His glasses covered the refreshment in his eyes reflectingwhat was in front of him.
He chose me, of all the selection,Iwas his pure reflection.


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