October, 2008

6 o’ clock I fear the worst

For a dreaded time has come

I walk up to the table

And sit down at my place

The horrid smell of what’s to come

Scares my appetite away

And then she brings it to the table

But sadly I can’t flee

I scoop some muk upon my plate

And then it squirms in front of me

Every night it is this way

For dinner time must come

The explanation I can see

My mom is trying to kill me

Seeing surroundings,

A shade of blue,

Wearing glasses,

Not to be touched,

Prized possession,