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 Jul 2014
Lunar
The little Toblerone bar,
a sweet one he is,
with his heart all a flutter.
He wanted to be mighty,
with as much strength
as he could muster.

Powerful as the pyramids!
Cool as the Swiss Alps!
Majestic as the Everest!
He dreamed of it all;
to become
greater than China's Wall.

But what he never realized
Through his chocolate brown eyes
Was his pride before his own fall.

Like the Everest, Swiss Alps,
Even the mysteious Pyramids,
Humans have stripped them
of their treasure.
Because Toblerone was broken down
to be eaten just for pleasure.
I feel bittersweet about this poem.
 Jul 2014
Lunar
Once upon a time,
in a land faraway,
lived an Oreo biscuit.

Everyone judged him--
he was black on the outside,
and white on the in.
He thought he would
never ever fit in.

Now in that land of biscuits,
where most were brown,
they all thought Oreo's
the strangest in town.

But little did they know
he was the favorite of the lot.
For in the human world,
his kind was the most bought.

Everyone learned to love him,
even the Fita guy.
But he told Oreo,
"Don't trust humans;
you won't want to know why."

But the Oreo boy,
he was a curious one.
He thought he needed to enjoy,
go out and have fun.

Later that night,
someone grabbed him, behold--
fear glazed over Oreo's eyes
over what he was told.

He was twisted and dunked
in milk till he drowned.
Then broken forever
and his life was summed.

For whatever Fita said,
it became so true.
Whatever happened to Oreo
Hopefully, won't happen to you.
Hello. And I yet again unleashed my sadistic humor unto my favorite biscuit. Sorry about that. I was thinking of my eating Oreo as killing him :/ tragic, I know.

And yet a lesson is still learned: You can't trust anyone all the tine just because they claim to love you.
 Jul 2014
Lunar
He skipped and he hopped.
He popped and he locked.
He danced with his feet,
to Mcdonalds' fast beat.

He puffed up with pride;
warm in the inside.
And fresh with his lettuce;
junk food is his fetish.

He never thought what would come;
he thought it was all fun.
In a funky yellow wrapper
and into the warmer he went.
He heard the kaching of the cashier--
someone's money was spent.
He was dragged to the front line
where the lights were all bright.
Like he was sent in for interrogation;
Like in a murderer's plight.

And like that he went.
A tear from his bread skin:
the top of his sesame seed bun head
human teeth sank in.
He yelled and he screamed
with all that he got.

He thought he was happy.
But he's everything he's not.
tell me when did i get this brutal to food???
i was clearly buzzed bored when writing this at a party.

— The End —