From Egg to Bacon by ashley mcgregor

Egg was born the smallest of the carton,

Torn away, an outcast, a martian.

He was odd you see,

Egg thought a lot more differently.

When the carton opened eleven others shivered with fear,

But egg, he shivered with the mere love and adoration,

His body overcome with motivation,

Ready to give an ovation,

Because he felt flirtation,

He saw her,

Bacon.

She was sizzling,

Drizzling with oil,

That made eggs hard boil.

Dressed in grease,

She was a masterpiece,

Making time cease,

He studied her every facet, her every crease.

But he was oval,

His frame a little less noble,

A figure that you could find global,

His ghostly parents mirrored the way he felt,

and man ugh loves the way she smelled.

See, he knew her favourite condiment,

They had basic consequence,

Of punishment if you ever got her an argument,

Because she was dominant,

He stared at her in silent wonderment.

But he was egg and she was bacon,

their two worlds could never be crossed,

Maybe their love was just mistaken.

Until one day he was taken out of the frost

and placed on a counter,

he was lost.

Something caught his attention,

The door swung open and in extension,

A hand grabbed him with tension

And took him to the stove top

And then time stopped,

Something fixed his eye,

There she was.

“ I'm beginning to fry,” bacon hissed and spat,

And he realised he would never be able to kiss her like that,

Because he lived a life of what- ifs and maybe’s,

He would never be making bacon babies.

And in that moment he heard a crack,

He fell and smack,

His shell crunched into tiny pieces,

While his insides burnt on a large circular hell.

Egg turned white with a bright orange centre,

The door edge moved and someone started to enter,

And in the pan lay the pair,

A star crossed love affair.