Fridge Pals
I arose, and from a deep doze
Came the ever present storm of mania.
Thunder, rain, and the pelting plead for alleviation
Was only granted in the kingdom of the cooking room,
In a small village some called Fridge, I called home.
Friends from different pasts, histories, and origins
Stared at me quietly, still, and without a breath.
In this moment of tranquility, a ravenous outrage overcame me.
I could not stop, but I cant help questioning if I really even wanted to.
In a flash, everyone was gone.
A few pounds heavier with guilt, I was satisfied.
But how could I forget my best pals,
A moment on the lips, a life time on the hips.