Sometime there will come a day
When no one has anything good to say
And there will be nothing to do
But eat raw cheese of the color bleu

There is no place to go
No where they won’t know
Except the side door of your local grocery store
Where you can get Gouda, Swiss, Muenster and more

What is it about raw cheese?
It makes you beg for more and say please
But not everyone likes to eat it
Unless you cook it or reheat it

Contribued by Loftus & Karendoll79 of poets.com (copyrighted)

Tags: Your Poetry //