She sold her pride

(Ballade de’ l’Huma)

“she sold her pride

for a chocolate cake”

was cut to pieces

put on a plate

divided up

and consumed

it wasnt really as painful

as she'd assumed

now there are only crumbs left

on the plate

she cant help but feel melancholic

but it's too late

this aint depressing

this is fun

got the poem completed

and now she is done