Learn more about other poetry terms
There was a young man who was obese.He ate too much and now he's deceased.He went to his favorite restaurants and ate a lot of food every day.He died at the age of thirty and it's not surprising that he passed away.
Knife carving into the soft squishy flesh; blood dribbling off the plate. Letting out a faint subtle sigh, admiring his handiwork.
A dry pile of hay Horses chew with their strong jaws Breaking so much wind
Breakfast Personal exercises Homework Lunch Checking Vitals Mario Kart Drawing the laughing stops as the sun sets
I have always been the small girl. The short girl ,the skinny girl, the I can wrap my fingers around her wrist girl. The eat a cheeseburger girl.
Have you noticed? Have you noticed how I’m chewing gum again? How apples have become my favorite food again? That I can’t sit down because of the bruises again?
obsessed. my dwindling eating habits started in an effort to punish myself, hurt myself. the meals dropped and dropped; three meals a day, two, one. an apple. an orange.
of all the sauces the one that's the best that's head over heels and tops all the rest with a helping of spice and a helping of zest is siracha sauce. you can put it on pizza you can eat it with lime
Right now I feel like life is in a pickle. I just ate my last pop sickle. That is right, I don't have a single Otter Pop left to my name. Nobody will understand my pain. I cannot settle my craving with an ice cube.
What is worse than breaking a promise, One you made to a friend? Breaking the one you made to yourself. I made myself a promise long ago, When the world seemed open That I would be okay.
Let me eat more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more
things i havent eaten in ages i am starting to eat again corn flakes, almond milk cottage cheese and tomatoes, and apples, and unsweetened apple sauce
I ate a piece of pumpkin pie With whipping cream piled high And, finding I was hungry still, Took the pan and had my fill.
to drink is good; good for the soul, though only if, you lack self control. imagine this; picture it quick; you've drunk until you're not quite sick,
I've tastedhaute cuisine,The bestlife has to offer...French wines divinedined a juicy supper...Ripe TomatoesVines of grapes,Pineapple Guavahoney,oil of olivedripped
The stale white walls are caving an emptiness chilling to the skin
I will not do it.
I can’t chew on the thought that’s begot Rotting inside like they thought I forgot When they couldn’t see me gnashing my fangs against my iron-wrought cage, the fangs, their bangs-
Suddenly, I break.
Dear Marlo, Drum, Drum, Drum I’m like a spy Drum, Drum, Drum I sound like I'm steppping on clouds in the sky So I run into the kitchen As sly as a mouse
Tiptoeing past my shame, Where once again, I start to question if I’m worthy To eat that extra slice, To role the dice To tell me if I’d ever pull off “curvy.” Smiles watch me now;
It sat there, on its godly pedestal, Alone. All its Friends of the Chocolate were unmistakably Gone. Vanished. O Dear Cookie Sweet Cookie O Cookie Tell me your secrets of survival.