May 20, 2021
1 min read
A Biscuit Ballad
A poem about — well. I’ll let you figure this one out.
They crumble, they snap, they tickle your lip.
They’re perfect for travelling on a long, restless trip.
They’re solid, they’re soft, they’re round and they’re square.
They’re beige and they’re brown, but with dazzling flair.
