When food is missing,
our family knows.
There's no dismissing,
what the refrigerator shows.
When people see,
their food gone from the fridge.
All chaos breaks loose,
till we all call a truce.
My brother stole my food,
so I handled.
It may have been rude,
but I threw my sandal.
If you're reading this,
be aware.
You steal my food,
there will be a scare.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry of sorts
PoetryThere's different topics of poetry here. Both happy and sad mixed together. #48 sad poems 1/6/2021 #33 poem book 12/19/2020 #62 poetry collection 12/19/2020 #26 thoughts and feelings 11/25/2020 #29 drowning 12/21/2020 #13 joyful 12/21/2020 #7 hope...
