![]() Fried EggsA Poem by Renata
Fried eggs
on a Friday it made sense, I thought a hearty breakfast like a shining sun on a plate as a salve for the heart that eats and beats alone but an error in the making had me chewing on sour bacon and I just knew it was going to be a pig of a day.
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3 Reviews Added on April 4, 2025 Last Updated on April 4, 2025 Author![]() RenataBordeaux , FranceAboutJust a dreamer who tries to write something, anything, on my daily commutes. more..Writing
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