Ode to the Ketchup
A Sonnet by Ash Ketchup
My red ketchup.
Invading my mind day and through the night,
Always dreaming about crimson.
Let me compare you to a maroon sweater?
You are more juicy.
But I shouldn’t have worn you at the same time.
I love your blue arms, attitude and hands.
With your small hairs.
Now I must away with a ruby heart,
Remember me.
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