Hello carbos, my old friend,
Iβve come to gnaw on you again,
Nighttime I dream Iβm consuming
Noodles, pasta, rice Iβm wanting
But eventually youβll turn to sugar from grain
And cause me pain
From diabetes
and through the salted water I saw
A hundred noodles maybe more
Softly bubbling without leaking
They float around and theyβre not sticking
Salted strandlets coiled and headed for my maw
I do adore
The taste of pasta