We're all doomed.
ALL of us.
Not a rod or tomb in a world of good old lamb posts.
Don't make doom for food, all the toast will become
Soup, for an hour or two, with a mask of desert
Dessert. Flies at you with unstoppable power!
Makes you think, makes you cry, puts you in an oven
gives you hope, makes feel
Tomorrow is another day, waiting in the food filled
hours, never will the cookiejuice run out
all the sauce flows in tune
forever blanketing the truth of turf
jumping in a summer while, making sure the bread is thin.
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