She spreads
And he butters
If he can't keep it up
As long as she is down
It's all gonna end
In burnt toast,
Her better side
On the floor
He'll get the door
I'll get the dough
But what does she knead
If I am the **** on a crescent roll,
Maybe
It's all baloney
I've got to go H.A.M
Cold turkey
Like she cuts carbs,
Temperature is rising
I'm crisp
Out the Oven
And into the fire,
I just cannot
Believe it
Is not margarine
Thin layers of fakery
Who's running this bakery?
Everything has come
A long way in the baking,
Is it melting or burning?
Don't know
Until you slice,
Take a bite
It'll be alright...

APAD16 - 002 © okpoet