Bread and Butter Poems

Whether I wither away,
Or whether I wither at home,
Wherever I wither,
I find that I dither,
Upon where my withering may roam. - Me

This just came into my mind today. I don't know why, it just did. It could be a side effect of the six month old bread which I found under my bed today.

I'm not a slob, I just didn't know it was there.

Bobbikk