Ode to Pizza Rolls
oh damn those pizza rollsthey burn my mouth like flaming hot coals
and from the land of microwave they come
smoldering liquid plasma from the heart of the sun
but, if thou shalt not be hot as earth's core
hard as rock, thy heart is cold, another score
and as cold as glacier ice, you betray my senses
as thy bites hard down on cold steel, no defendses
and even still, if thou art not prepared just right
thy heart and stomache is filled with regret through the night
sometimes though, thou art fullfilling
and sometimes still, i smile through my suffering
for thou art pizza rolls, gods blessed treat
reguardless of the frozen cold, or flaming heat
and for yet another sun to come
a new day, pizza rolls and thy shalt become one
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.