Saturday, 7 April 2018

Some Bread Please ? ~ Bad Poetry





Bread.

Fresh-Out-Of- The- Oven-Bread

That arrives in it's own woven basket, with a white napkin in tow.

That makes me close my eyes so my taste sense has no competition.

That makes time stop..... cause who cares what's happening around me when I am eating this bread?

B.
     R.
         E.
            A.
                 D.

Melting on my tongue and muting all noises so that I can hear my own heart beat.

Why? 


This must be witch craft... cause how? Just Wow.

The Devil is dusting of my chair in hell.

Haven't I broken the first commandment?

On a Palm Sunday as well?


I came here to have a quite lunch and catch up on my 'serious' writing

But this bread has put the future eternity of my soul in jeopardy, it's left me sideways. Yes it is that goooooood 😍😍😍
 
 I try to buckle down and to be fruitful. I want to write something worthy of praise, something that will make my critiques talk.

But all I can think about is how gooooooooooood that warm slice of fresh white bread tasted and how much I wish I had bread like that everyday.

I am not the same woman I was before this bread.😂😂😂

Honestly.

Good bread does that to a woman.

How can I go back to the same s..... everyday? The one we buy at the supermarket, that tastes like paper, that annoyingly falls apart as you make a sandwich.

*Takes a long deep breath*

 How can bread do this to a person? 😲😱😲



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