My Flavor of Ice Cream


Myself and I walk side by side, our personalities mixed.

I tell her that she is too sweet; she tells me that I am a mess.

Together we are one, with our flavors betwixt.

She is like fruit - a burst of fun - where I am like chocolate (told I'm the best.)


When mixed, we are nutty - crazy and wild;

We'd yell at each other in public, you see.

Others would say that I seem like a child,

But who can define myself other than me?


We are flavorful, powerful, bright, and reserved.

We are perfect, irregular, and contrasting too.

She and I know we give what is deserved:

Part sweet but all colorful - connected like glue.


Our name is unusual - not often heard;

Our quirks seem to suit her, accepted with smiles;

I, on the other hand, think we're absurd.

Yet it appears to work out - we each have our own styles.


Lastly, though strange, we still get along;

If we weren't one and the same, there'd be matrimony.

Us living together should be so wrong,

But life has formed us into lovely spumoni.

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