Challenge
If you were going to be executed, what would your last meal be? Poetry or prose. Please tag me.
Carbohydrates.
I sit and wait surrounded by wire barb.
Waiting for the last bite of a sweet, sweet carb.
Haven't had one in a while,
As it turns out.
Only thing I'm eating these days
Are heaps of self-doubt.
They escort me through a narrow door,
And there's pizza, pasta and burgers galore!
I bump the table
As I make my way
There, on the floor,
The carbs now lay.
It's fitting, though,
Eating like a rat.
Karma can be a dick like that.
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