Where is the missing slice I ask?
It was here a while ago,
I saw it when I got a beer,
it was on the plate, laying low.
The yummy look of this lone slice,
stared me in the face,
why did it get left behind
so full of flavour and of grace?
It was waiting for the time to pass,
for me to get hungry and ask:
"Is there any more of that yummy stuff,
we had for dinner, I didn't have enough?"
And then it called to me from the fridge:
"I'm here! Come get me, I'm still yummy!"
So I rushed down to the kitchen and prayed
that it wasn't eaten previously by my mommy.
So now it sits in my stomach,
and boy oh boy it was nice,
and now I feel quite lovely,
and how I long for that next lonely slice.