me wus , i profess, perfectly happy
but instead me gets sliced and stuffed
under a red hot grill til i’m toast!
wusn’t it ‘nuff me got pummeled ‘n punched
when me wus just a bit of dough
— me didn’t need that!
and unceremoniously shoved in an oven
— me actually loved that!
i rise under torture a beaut!
even if some like it hot, up to a point, me don’t
aaargh, nearly burnt
ahhhhh, smooth sooth meeee
with butter and jam
i can’t believe it!
what new hell is……
not a haiku
NaPoWriMo day 20 prompt
write a poem that anthropomorphizes a kind of food. It could be a favorite food of yours, or maybe one you feel conflicted about. I feel conflicted about Black Forest Cake, for example. It always looks so pretty in a bakery window, and I want to like the combination of cherries and chocolate . . . but I don’t. But how does the cake feel about it?