Friday, November 21, 2008

Potato

Potato

He waits,
Accepting,
His Doom,
Contemplating
The meaning of life.

Then it hits him,
Slicing him into little pieces,
The pain is unbearable,
All is for naught,
But the
Torture's just begun.

They throw him
In a pool of fire,
It burns more
Than words can describe,
Then, to add insult to injury,
They put salt on him.

French Fry


Sorry guys, that's all I have today.

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