Trail of Breadcrumbs

CRUST and crumbs of worm-riddled bread litter the floor under the table.

SHALL it always come to this? Ill-gained grains ground into meals of emptiness?

WILL You slake your thirst in vain from rusty, leaking faucets with broken pipes?

DWELL upon the hill where fresh rolls, dripping with honey and butter, are served daily.

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