A poem I wrote today after a long time since school days...
Bakeman's world was a floor below It's always bread and jam
I sat down, had no choice to make
And didn’t have anything else to take
Serves me slices as long as he likes
But jam is what I make
I make it everyday and bring
To sit and have with bread and sing
Bakeman’s world is spooky and sad
Lots of bread, no jam too bad
I spread little jam on one huge slice
To save the rest for more
More bread here they come fresh and soft
No jam needed or so I thought
Few more slices, bread was dry
Some jam along is now worth a try
The jam is not for long and so
I spread very little and sang out low
Bakeman’s world is spooky and sad
Lots of bread, no jam too bad
He rings the bell and doors will close
It’s time to go away
Lots of jam now here and there
But no more bread to spare
I climb the stairs my eyes look back
There’s lot of jam on plate
If only I had them all along
With slices all I ate
Bakeman’s world is not so bad
So have the jam and don’t be sad
