Toast

Toast

 

 

It’s so comfortable inside my bed.

I think I will stay here until I am dead.

I’m never going to move again.

 

 

The air is cold, my quilt so warm,

My feet are nice and toasty.

I have a day off, so I will remain lost,

In a world of imaginary.

 

 

I drift off to sleep until quarter to three.

They say that’s a whole day you have wasted!

All I reply is, I have had a bad day since I was a kid,

So a lie-in once in a while is just what I needed.

 

 

But now my stomach is starting to grumble.

Three meals a day is a must.

So I throw on some clothes and drag myself to where I need to go.

Boring, boring, boring toast!

But, oh well, it is something at least.

They tell me I have to eat.

 

 

It’s been twenty minutes and I am still not finished,

With this rubbery, so dry!  Food,

With absolutely zero taste at all...

Have a guess what I am…Bored!

 

 

My cup of tea is just (stupid!) flavoured water.

My biscuits are broken in barrel and cup.

I should stop eating this toast, I know I oughta,

But it’s nearly done now

And once it is done, it is done.

 

 

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