ToastSometimes a poemToast by semievilchicky
Can just be about toast.
Sometimes a poet
Needs nothing more to boast.
A flaky little breakfast
With cal'rie count of nil
Is something to be celebrated
So please could you not kill
This secret meaning that
You're so bent to try and find?
It simply isn't there.
I'd hoped you wouldn't mind.
But irony, it seems, haunts me like a ghost,
So let me say, as clear as day,
This poem is not about toast.
Current Residence: Scotland
Favourite genre of music: I'll listen to anything
Favourite style of art: portraiture and surrealist
Favourite cartoon character: danger mouse, count duckula
Personal Quote: Tidymans carpets, the deep shag that really satisfies!