If I had a pickle
For every time you smile
I’d be decorating sandwiches
For a sufficient while.
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As the birds sing in the morning
And the bugs crawl in the night
So too doth my heart yearneth
When you say “Meh, you’re alright…”
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I picked the petals from the flower:
“She loves me, she loves me not…”
But I misread the directions
Turns out it was flour I bought.
As I sift through every grain
I frown and then I smile.
I’m getting a great workout
But the results will take a while.
The Daily Travesty 