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by Jester
Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #2157412
Pain is on the menu, it doesn’t matter the venue
To cook this quick meal of agony,
Grab your potential, it burns quite easily!

Then grab the spark of someone ignorant,
After that use the dreams that you wanted to grant.

You need a pot of pounding steel,
The more fear you start to add, the more tasty the meal.

Collect liquid from your blood, sweat and tears,
If that’s not enough, add your failed careers.

Now add the sausages made’ve Fingers and toes,
The slower the removal, the more that the taste grows.

After about eighteen years,
Take them out and season them with your own salty tears.
© Copyright 2018 Jester (wont at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2157412-Finger-food