Hot Wings

Friday evening gets me so excited,
The time to ask Zhi-ying for my fave wings,
The sweet honey sauce on them is gleaming,
When I see my hot wings, I’m delighted.

I pickup a hot wing, and I bite it.
The wonderful taste makes me want to sing.
I love the sauce of the chicken’s bathing.
I’m craving some more, but I must fight it.

I gotta thank Momma for the money,
It’s a blessing to eat wings of honey.
I love hot wings; they are totally great.
I would eat them as my last living meal.
Everyday I could eat them to my fill.
My love for hot wings will always be real.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741