Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

So, Mr. Easter Egg, what's it like being you?
 
Well, you know, it's not easy being me. 
In fact, it pretty much sucks.
 
And why is that Mr. Easter Egg?
 
Well, because I want to be me, I mean how would you feel if someone came along and painted you a different color... 
Then, to make things worse, they hide me so no one can see me. For hours they hide me in places like under the carpet, in old cups, behind dusty books and sometimes even in stinky shoes. Sometimes I don't get found for days, until I stink so bad that even a bad nose would find me. 
But what's worse than even that, is when I do get found. 
Two things can happen to me when I get found... Either I get found and thrown in a basket with some other hard guys or I get smashed by some bratty little kid so hard that I literally get cut or broken in half with parts of me embedded into my skin, then, I get eaten by monsters.
Sometimes before I get eaten, they beat me so bad that I turn completely turn yellow, and then they mix me with onion and celery and make a sandwich out of me. They sometimes cut me in half and stuff me with hot mustard- a devilish thing to do if I do say so myself. 
Ya know, I think I'd rather be a jellybean, at least they stay the same color and don't get all beat up before they get hidden, found, and eaten.

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