#WritcoPoemPrompt42
Write a poem focusing on a single memory, or describe what you might imagine the typical grandmother’s kitchen to be like.


whipping in my grandmama kitchen turning white into rock no ice box only around 8 thinking I'm great flipping from the brick not even tripping but on the double up making it back then was everythang now I'm keeping a green profit off the green goblin Mary Jane suesey going kinda light but still hustling not giving a shit no fucks giving but 1 witch is money 1 way out this hell of a state the only right way the huslte way to make myself better get money BET