little chicken nugget
under the seat
have you been there a day
or a month or a week?
you look like you were made
just a minute ago
but the way that they make you
there’s no way to know
I pick you up
and you look alright
but I’ll never know
’til I take a bite
you taste a little bit
like sawdust and mold
but that’s always how they taste
if you let ’em get cold
with the consistency
of chewy, greasy plastic
and a rubbery texture
like chicken-flavored elastic
there’s no way to tell
how long you’ve been there
amongst the French fries,
M & M’s and hair
but I’m pretty hungry
so, I guess I’ll risk it
and to go along with you
I just found a Triscuit
did you just eat a chicken nugget of the ground. You are a poopy head
Yummy this is soo good i love this poem and thanks whoever did this
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
boo! your comment annie#1
Thats rude