I'm sitting on the couch, writing for the first time in about a month, and I'm starving. Somehow I can't convince myself to get up though, as I'm sustaining myself on literature. I was staring at the page though, and the first verse in this poem popped into my head, which I then proceeded to make up on the spot (and, of course, post to facebook, because what else do we do with stuff like that these days?). Anyway, here it is.
Home alone with nothing to do. Searching in vain for something to chew.
My stomach growls loud and clear, but I'm too lazy to feed it I fear.
For making dinner requires work, and that is a duty I'm willing to shirk.
But still, I may need to get up soon, 'cuz otherwise I may just swoon.
A lack of food is no small thing, especially when you are STARVING.
*Bows* Thank you, thank you.
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