My tiny buds returned from thirty days so far away

How I missed you tastebuds, although losing you improved my waist

I’ll be glad to eat more for the taste.


I should mark this festive night with song and dance

If I come across some epic poem I will be sure to add it,

After thirty days of metallic mud I’d nearly had it.


You just don’t realize what it is like, until chocolate tastes like mud, pure water like it was out of a poorly maintained salt aquarium or anything with fat like solid metal.  And that first drink of water that leaves you satisfied with no metallic aftertaste,     wonderful.