Danger (an acrostic poem)

Death, or at least ritualistic suicide, faced Cheryl

Ashton loved his spicy food, and Cheryl had said she would match him

Now she was looking at that pizza slice

Green islands of death floated on gooey cheese

Even the gasses escaping the weapon of taste bud destruction hurt her eyes

Reaching for the hot sauce, Ashton added a healthy dose, smiled, and took a bite

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s