Hatred spiked as she looked at the single piece of paper
Ordinarily inanimate objects did not suffer her wrath
Perhaps if it didn’t have those words and symbols on it
Eventually those very words scrambled her brain
Leaving her feeling lost amongst a future sea of red ink
Eyes fluttered skyward, but no divine help was forthcoming
Shifting in her seat gave didn’t give her any new insight
Suffering silently she wondered how bad it would be to ask if they wanted fries with that