Did you get a whiff of the air?
Something is smelling quite rotten,
And whatever happened to that watermelon?
Is it laying in the fridge forgotten?!
And then with a look of absolute fear,
We all ran to the fridge,
And tossed aside the many items,
To find where the watermelon hid.
And indeed there lie that offending fruit,
Buried behind the meat,
Now far beyond questionable,
For anyone to eat.
But rather it seemed it mutated into,
A completely different form,
And perhaps would soon grow arms and legs,
And walk right out the door.
Or maybe it would turn into a monster,
An easy metamorphosis,
And in return for our neglect,
It would lock us up and torture us.
Or perhaps we should take it’s picture,
And post it on Facebook,
So all of our friends can become sick to their stomaches,
After having a look.
But I think it would be much more appropriate,
To act as if we’re doing a favor,
And try to pass it off as pickles,
And give it to our neighbors.