Isn't On The Label

-Isn't On The Label-
by
Keaton Foster



A misshapen container
Dinged and dented
Crudely painted
What came inside
Unknown
Is it still full
Is it completely empty
Has it been used
Thoroughly consumed
Has it spoiled
Rotted away
Changing matter and state
Smelling to high hell
Like death and decay
Like an unlivable organism
That no longer serves a use
What once was inside
Or what certainly now is
Deep within the confines
Isn't on the label
There are no markings
Not one
No obvious creator
Nothing to lend a purpose
No reason for its existence
Its predicament is
Easily relatable to those of us
Standing on the shore
Watching it pass on by
Floating in its world of shit
Repeatedly bashing against things
Equally more troubling than itself
Has left it in a state of decay
A worrisome slip out of shape
Soon the pressure of all that is around
Will crush it down
Pulverizing it to bits
Destroying all that remains
Even nothing stands no chance
All that will be left
All that will remain
Will be refuse
Trash to be swept away
By an endless current
Driven by dismay
What's inside
Isn't on the label
What is contained
If anything at all
Is not known
Who created it
Who set it adrift
Placing it in such peril
Are all variables unexposed
Certainly one of us
Could kneel down and pick it up
Certainly one of us
Could save it
If only we could deem
That such a thing
Was worth saving…





Isn't On The Label
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2012.