This is day 12 (I think) of the October Poetry Camp! I didn't really know what to write about to today... so here's a really random poem. I hope you enjoy!

In the dirt I sit,
Alone in my backyard.
My hands are covered in grit,
That's the least of my worries though.

I reach into a hole,
My fingers dig into the ground;
For this I have a goal,
16 whole mud pies!

I start off with the crust,
Which happens to be mud.
The filling is sprinkled with dust;
This pie looks amazing!

This is the part
Where I made a mistake.
A mud pie is an art,
Not an edibility.

Into my mouth it goes,
Falling apart in my hands.
It's all over my nose,
And the taste is really bad!

What a horrible pie,
Where did I go wrong?
Maybe I'm more of a cake guy?
Never again will I eat a mud pie.