My mind is broken, it can't be fixed,
scramble eggs with stuff in it mixed.
Broken shelled, leakage of thought,
many times, the peppered dots.
Thought of food, toasted bread,
coffee, tea, juice instead.
Now I'm hungry.
-
Author:
Maplespal (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 17th, 2026 17:38
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16

Offline)
Comments1
Food and the thought of it makes me hungry too. Well written
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.