A B A N D O N H O P E 1 / 2 8 / 2 0 2 4 (Patreon)
Content
in a world where spaghetti weeps,
Twisted strands in sorrow deep.
A melancholic pasta lies,
Underneath the mournful skies.
Once they danced in pots of cheer,
In a bubbling, joyous sphere.
Now they lay, despondent, still,
On plates where no hunger they fill.
Marinara rivers run dry,
Meatballs like lost moons, they cry.
Forks untouched, no twirls ensue,
In kitchens where joy once grew.
Abandon hope, ye who dine here,
For every noodle sheds a tear.
In the silent, empty gloom,
Spaghetti meets its somber doom.
Odes of wheat and egg's demise,
Echo 'neath the dining skies.
A world where pasta's joy has ceased,
In every bowl, a broken feast.