Oven-tually
you have to come out
from where it’s
toasty
and warm,
and life’s
mishaps
can break you and leave you a mess,
just like after a storm.
But whether you’re
upper, middle, or even lower
crust,
no matter how life has tossed you,
pick yourself up you must.
© Joel Tipple
Write here, Joel. 
I’d like to meet a pizza that can pick itself up. 🙂
Yeah, it was a real pizza work. 😉
Reblogged this on Swallow in the Wind and commented:
Here’s an interesting thought from Write Here, Joel to brighten your day. No wonder we feel like such a mess sometimes. 🙂
Hope it’s okay with you; I’m reblogging this on my poetry blog.
Thanks for reblogging it, Christine! Boy, that pizza was a mess. It was all over.
Brilliant observations in the poem. The pizza does look a mess…however, I’ll bet it tasted great anyway!
There’s no such thing as bad pizza! 🙂
Oh, I beg to differ with you there, however, I do so politely. 😉