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The Poetry of
Cinnamon
I wrote a little poem
by Cinnamon
I wrote a little poem,
I wanted you to see.
But my little poem,
it isn't here with me.
Its rhythm was like nature;
its rhyme was pure and true.
It truly was a piece of art;
I wrote it just for you.
With simile and metaphor,
I opened up my heart.
Its syntax I did not invert;
I was clever from the start.
I wrote a pretty poem,
I wrote it just for you.
But you will have to trust me.
It got eaten by a shrew. *****
Childhood Sonnet
by Cinnamon
Look at this pile of onions and liver,
sitting and cooling right there on my plate.
Looking at it makes my stomach quiver.
But I know my mother I have to sate.
I really wish today wasn’t the date,
that this meaty horror I had to eat.
I wish I’d stayed home and cooked for my mate
instead of sitting here in the hot seat.
It’s true that I’ve got my childhood fears beat,
at the age of twenty-seven years old,
but still I do hate this horrible meat.
In fact it causes my blood to run cold.
So I guess I’ll give my old trick a whirl,
And stuff it into my cheeks like a squirrel.
*****
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