Beebread stops by

Here is a poem by my dear friend Beebread-Florin:




"It's cold out here"
That's what you said.
You lit a candle,
Then went to bed.

I called you an idiot
You poked me in the eye.
As our house burned down
You baked a pie.

It wasn't very yummy
being pudding and ham
One day I'll learn
Our marriage is a sham.

You look like a bum
and smell like feet
You are particularly potent
In very high heat.

I should have known better
When I looked at your dad
That marriage to you
Would only end bad.

Suffice it to say
you live and you learn
So I threw you in the house
To watch you burn.