chicken #poetry

Grilled, or fried, or better yet,

roasted as a whole,

oh chicken how I love the taste,

it warms the very soul.

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Throw #poetry

A stone’s throw from where I sit now,

Round the corner, down the street,

A place that truly I call home,

Where life’s occurrences would meet.

 

Not the place where I now choose to live,

But the place that I belong,

Where happiness and sadness fought,

Where I learnt how to be strong.

 

An empty shell, that once was full.

Fallen silent, from all sound,

Yet will always be the place I go,

To feel my feet upon the ground.