You grew on top my bread,
slowly you spread across the surface,
like grass; you grew fast,
green, brown, and black.

You came and ate my bread,
you stole my gluten and fat,
you gobbled it up just like that.

I will never leave my bread out
on the counter again,
I will close the package tightly,
making sure you can't make entry.

I hate moldy bread,
it's not healthy.*

*© 2017 Amanda Shelton