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pies

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I like pies.
Blueberry, strawberry, also cherry berry.
Dribble! Dribble! Dribble!
That’s the sound of the drool falling to the ground.
I can’t stop thinking about pies.

I’ll die if I don’t have pies.
That isn’t a lie.

If I see red, Fred, or my bed.
I think of pies.
But only Strawberry pies.

I’ll faint if I don’t have my pies.
And that isn’t a lie.
If I see blue, a loo, or my shoe.
I think of pies.
But only Blueberry pies.

I’ll starve if I don’t have my pies.
And that isn’t a lie.
If I see pink, ink, or a drink.
I think of pies.
But only the Cherry berry pies.





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