Tasteless Jam

I picked the berries in the burning sun

My skin was scorching, it was no fun

I decided that it was too much work

But unfinished business will always lurk

In my mind, and I can’t stop

Making jam, that tasty glop

I hope for the best

I cannot rest

I do get scared, the flies may infest

But I will put it to the test

I boil the mix and let it thicken

And smell the aromas starting to kick in

I lick the concoction and discover

That the scary fear still hovers

Am I sick, can I recover

Or will my jam stay tasteless forever?


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