Mold (A Poem)

There is mold in my chocolate
The chocolate has been cold for a long time
Alone on the table, it holds itself
Alone on the table, we forget it's existance
Only the mug holds it's comfort,
With its pretty porcelain arms,
One needs the other,
The other needs no one,
Only its virus will kill it,
Mold, take me away.
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End.