here, have some cornbread

she was so
proud of her corn
bread.
carrying it out
from the kitchen,
fresh and hot
from the stove,
it gleamed with
melted butter
as she set it on
the table.
try some corn
bread, she'd say.
I just made it,
from scratch.
and you'd say,
no thanks, I don't
like corn bread.
but I just made
it. it goes great
with chicken.
no thanks, you'd
tell her. just
taste it, have one
nibble, i'm
sure you'll love it.
nah, i'll pass, but
I will have some
more chicken if you
don't mind
passing me the plate.
you won't have
one bite, she asked,
chewing her
cornbread and smiling
sweetly.
nope. no cornbread
for me. it was an
early night as she
claimed to get
a headache.
things never were
the same after that.