French ToastA Poem by Tenten
Don’t bite the hand that feeds you
Even though its 1 AM
The French Toast is cooking
To calm the munchies
There’s vanilla in the eggs
Butter on powder sugar
Drizzled lines of syrup
And these sleepy steps are comforting
Far too comfortable in dazed minds
I’ll miss this dance
© 2008 TentenAuthor's Note
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Added on October 23, 2008 AuthorTentenAlamosa, COAboutI know me well enough to know that I don't who I truly am and that I deceive myself into believing i have found my way in life. i well away of the fact that i am a contradiction of actions and words a.. more..Writing
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