Not
sure where this jumped out from except I was watching a romantic comedy while
baking when thinking about this poem thing.
Proofing
Pride
Half-baked
is what I am
No
one would believe me
I
get up and stretch
Feeling
tight on the inside
I
want to slide
Down
a smoother road
No
potholes to dodge
Just
riding in that cherry red convertible
With
the top down
Tunes
blaring bluegrass
Wind
warm inviting warmth
Memories
to marvel
Confidence
brushed up
And
feeling fabulous
I
would smell as good as I looked
No
mushy middle
No
over stirred batter
Making
my texture tough
I’d
be true
I
am level
Not
askew
I
am delicious
Can
I be consumed now?
I’m
waiting.
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