Slice

Pizza is Life.

You’d guess from how i hold it,

I’m Joey from New York.

Like a sandwich, I’ll fold it,
No knife or a fork.

The dough can be thick,
Or it can be thin.
Connect that cheesy mozzarella

with a big greasy grin.

The days go by.
Weeks turn the months.
I haven’t had my fill
Of that oregano crunch.

A nice marinara
or a chicken wing sauce.
Last night’s dinner,
today’s breakfast and lunch.

All that pepperoni
sure makes me thirsty.
I’d wash it down with soda,

but I’ve already got coffee.

I’d write it to a song,
But what rhymes with pizza?
I just looked at that slice
and said, “Hey, I’m gonna eats ya!”

The days go by.
Weeks turn the months.
I haven’t had my fill
Of the oregano crunch.

A nice marinara

Or a chicken wing sauce.
Last night’s dinner,
Today’s breakfast and lunch.

Poetry Topics: Food, Pizza, New York.

“The Moments of Our Lives Written into Poetry.” ScribbledToPaper.com

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