Poetry

Fat Kid Blues

It takes some things

to make the batter

but up til then

it does not matter

The cake ain’t baked

the stomach aches

the mind itself

can’t catch a break

The flour and eggs

the oil and milk

don’t satisfy

this troubled ilk

But when it’s done

and out to cool

this fat kid sees

he’s played the fool

Because a few

things had to break,

be battered too

to make the cake

6 thoughts on “Fat Kid Blues

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