Overflow

The words turn in to black splattered ink
The jar is now full
It overflows
A sound of a famous song
Starts playing in my mind
A popcorn seller
I fiddle my pockets for some money
A five rupee coin
I buy the popcorn
My feet hurt
In the skimpy chappals, I am wearing
The news makes me nauseous
It adds to the misery
It paints the wall black again
Making the room smaller
The jar is now full
It overflows
The contents trickle down
A relief
A momentary relief
The words turn in to black splattered ink
The jar is now full
It overflows again

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