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I Want A Fry
The game ends and I am struck with a craving for a fry. This, for me is my drug my hook my addiction. If I do not have it my stomach cries like a baby wanting his mom.
I call for my brother to take me to Mcdonalds. We see the bright M a mile a way. Once we arrived it feels like paradise, like a tourist looking at the bright lights in New York City.
The crisp fragrance that comes from the drive-thru fills my empty stomach with hunger, I want a fry. The greasy odor that penetrates the brown bag, I want a fry. The salty fries all crisp looking tempt me with their appearance, I want a fry. He takes a bite, while I am clenching my teeth watching, I want a fry.
I beg him for a fry, as if I was begging for my own life. The craving I have is irresistible, I cannot take it any longer. I am going insane. I will do anything it takes to obtain the fry. I grasp his hand and take his fry. Finally I have obtained the fry.
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My poem is about my crazy craving a have for french fries.