I scan the shelves and walk down the aisles,
It feels like I've been walking for miles.
Looking for the right thing to buy,
I see something that catches my eye.
Sitting there in all its glory,
Are pizzas divided into categories.
Feeling inspired, I check for change,
The pizza is in my budget range.
I take it home; it's time to cook,
I might have lost my recipe book.
Checking the cupboards, checking the fridge,
I don't have the ingredients; how do I live?
I turn around and the pizza is gone,
The oven is on. What's going on?
My sister walks in with my pizza in hand,
Her cunning smile lets me know her plan.
Who cares? I won't eat,
I shrug and go to sleep.
The morning brings the truth of this deceit,
I don't have a sister or pizza; it was all just a dream.
