Three Coke Bottles.

Lined up perfectly, one next to the other. 

Nobody out of place. 

Everything in line, conforming, perfect. 

Three Coke Bottles.

They stand tall, towering over the unseen.

Overtaking the old grainy scratched canvas.

The emerald stained glass fading, scratched by people of black, brown, white and yellow. 

Three Coke Bottles.

The words, “Coca-Cola” printed underneath in bright rosy blood red. 

In hopes of you imagining the cold crisp crack of a Coke.

In hopes of you seeing… wanting a Coke.

Three Coke Bottles.

A testament to our collective thirst,

for more, for better, for a mirage unrehearsed.

We chase the high of the next purchase made, ignoring the cost, the debts unpaid.

Three Coke Bottles.

Symbols of a system out of control,

where consumption reigns and takes its toll.

For in their sweet grip, we find ourselves chained, lost in a cycle that can't be sustained.

Three Coke Bottles. 

Three unseen truths

greed, gluttony, sloth. 

The dirty truth behind a simple picture, the dirty truth of consumerism.

Three Coke Bottles.