My aunt once had a smoothie for breakfast- she always did. She had to get to work. She turned on the blender And the fruit was still. She turned up the speed And the fruit was still, But she had a nauseous feeling In her stomach. If only I had been there. If only I had been there When it came. I could have stopped her, But that aunt of mine Kept turning up the speed, Seeking food And losing her soul. She opened the lid To see what was the matter, But the fruits had an odd texture. The cup was filled with berries Made of fleshy, bloody cells And when she looked inside it She slipped and fell to her grave.