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Poetry / Human
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This is a poem about pouring scrambled eggs into a bathtub and then being moderately sad. I think that this poem describes the Super Bowl very well.
Free verse, unrhymed.
Free verse, unrhymed.
Category Poetry / Human
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 90 x 120px
File Size 342 B
I was hoping it was more in the vein of "That was so weird I laughed.
"Partially because I think the author is clinically insane. I do hope he gets some medical attention soon.
"I think perhaps I shall leave now."
I dunno. Scrambled eggs in a bathtub? Crying "furtively" in the shade? I thought it was pretty funny to think about. >.>
"Partially because I think the author is clinically insane. I do hope he gets some medical attention soon.
"I think perhaps I shall leave now."
I dunno. Scrambled eggs in a bathtub? Crying "furtively" in the shade? I thought it was pretty funny to think about. >.>
x3 no problem, hun. The image kinda caught my eye, but then I started to become more disturbed and afraid as I read the tile and the poem itself x3 The idea of soapy scrambled eggs in a bath just stuck in my mind >.< and, then, the speaker implies making love to her mother >.>
uhm, thanks, hun x3
and, yeah, that sounds awful what happened to your friend =<
And, yes, grease burns are painful. But they're usually small when it's splatter from a skillet. I have a burn from an incense stick that still stings when you touch it, 16 hours plus after the initial damage was done. =/
and, yeah, that sounds awful what happened to your friend =<
And, yes, grease burns are painful. But they're usually small when it's splatter from a skillet. I have a burn from an incense stick that still stings when you touch it, 16 hours plus after the initial damage was done. =/
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