They taste like the pain in your eyes from working under fluorescent lights all day.

They taste like the hollow grinding of a vending machine failing to dispense the highly processed snack food you paid for.

They taste like the empty home you return to since you spent your life meeting the next deadline instead of meeting your wife.

They taste like the ashes from the urn of the life you could have had but didn’t because you were too timid.

They taste like disappointment.

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