My Life as Pie

My earliest memory is of baked apple pie
from the golden arches. (Sorry.)

Then there was the childhood diversion
to chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream.

Then my taste buds developed
and I was strawberry rhubarb pie.

I was Boston Creme Pie for a bit,
because of my first girlfriend.

But she broke my heart,
and now it tastes bitter to me.

And then I figured out
I didn’t need to be different.

I could always be strawberry rhubarb,
because that’s who I really am.

And if you don’t like me, that’s okay;
there’s plenty of other flavors out there.

And then the more I thought about it,
I realized life is sweet – and tart.

/ / /

This poem was written in response to the my life as a pie prompt at We Write Poems.

14 thoughts on “My Life as Pie

  1. ohhh….I hadn’t seen that prompt yet, now I am “ruined” by yummy strawberry rhubarb pie! I love this one, Richard. The progression through flavors. Brilliant.


  2. Sweet and Tart – take me as I am. That’s ‘in your face!’ I’m not really a baker. My first experience with rhubarb was the wild kind growing up in the country. You had to get it while it was ‘young’ and add lots of other stuff like strawberries and sugar to make it taste good. As a child I wasn’t into ‘tart’ and wondered why bother. But life isn’t always sweet, and tart definitely adds flavor. Nice write!


    • julespaige, thank you. I grew up in the Midwest, so I developed a taste for strawberry rhubarb pie when I was younger. I’m sure I liked it more sweet than tart back then, but now I like the tartness. Glad you liked it.



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