Spaghetti

Oh, how I love spaghetti!
I get my noodles out of the mystery box.
That I purchased from the clearance rack.
The raw noodles are as hard as the pencil that I stole from Christian.
When I boil the water, the noodles do backflips.
Just like I have done before
I take them out of the pot,
So limp, delicious and hot.
I pile it on my plate,
And parmesan cheese I grate.
Oh, how I love spaghetti!
I grow my own herbs and tomatoes for my secret recipe.
Simmering sauce on the stove delights my nose with savory smells.
The marinara sauce is as red as my sister’s lipstick,
But I bet it would stain my clothes.
SPLAT! I spilled on the sweatshirt that grandma gave me. 😦
Oh, how I love spaghetti!

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