Dinner began,
silent and calm,
Delicious food,
thanks to our mom.

Suddenly we noticed,
something fly,
It wasn’t a plane,
it was a pie.

A sight to see,
crème pie in the face,
Chaos erupted,
it was a race.

Salads, chicken,
and lots of rice,
Hilarious food fight,
with plenty of spice.

Grandpa received food
in his right ear,
It didn’t matter,
he still couldn’t hear.

Mom had pies,
under the table,
Dad surrendered,
went to watch cable.

Laughter filled,
the dining room,
They would need more,
than just a old broom.

It was much more,
than a really bad mess.
A fun way to relieve,
some of that stress.

by Martin Dejnicki



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