Hordes of people wait
and wait...and wait
for donuts in the pouring rain.
Is their lust in vain?
Will they leave empty
and in emotional pain?
Or from torn ligaments, abrasions?
From below a scoundrel bites,
a pilgrim's ankle chomped
for not abiding the offering rite.
Words exchanged, the pilgrim flees.
A beggar now rich with glee.
One less patron for donuts,
a Yelp travesty.
Creation is derived from misery.