I would have chosen purple skies
But I shall choose a specific shade of clear blue
My self minding has come unleashed
The eggs are almost always boiled then fried
And amongst all the other ways that I have tried
The fry post boil sticks
For they take the maximum time
The time I would have spent on cravings
Are as of right now re-homed toward further culinary stints
I still feed my inner child
That has only feared running out of frying oil
Post meal, I shall uncork a wine and watch
sip and feel the night pass
I would have thought of painting the sunset in shades
But I will let nature handle it
I have silenced my voice,
Yours is welcome,
mine has been a tad too loud
I was here, now I am somewhat
Watching the afternoon sun, letting everything pass
