Poems ✍️

A cook stood in the kitchen
and stirred Hungarian Stew.
His wife was always bitchin'
that's all this marriage knew.
One day the cook was cooking
and tired of her poo,
so when she was not looking
he put her in the stew.
A cook stands in the kitchen,
all smiles, he hums and sings.
To stop the constant bitchin'
he had to change some things.
The stew was true Hungarian,
his new ingredient not,
he was no vegetarian
and likes it piping hot.