From frostbitten,
To the sink,
I await you to wake.
Hours go by,
As you turn pink.
Making ground beef.
I cut the wrap,
Take you from the tray,
And put you in the pot.
Turning the stove,
Up to 9.
Out comes the seasonings -
So many to name.
I pour the flavors in,
Letting my gut decide to stop.
Mashing the beef,
Watching you turning brown.
Now,
Let's eat!
Making ground beef.
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Author:
Zora (Pseudonym) (
Offline)
- Published: July 23rd, 2025 10:32
- Category: Humor
- Views: 4
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