O Masterchef, how you bring joy to my day
six days out of seven.
How will I cope with my grief when you’re gone.
My Masterchef, imagine life without you
days stretching into long nights
With naught to comfort me at the end.
Dear Masterchef, how you have taught me the patience to
ignore nasal accents and dropped ‘g’s
When never I thought I would.
O Masterchef, I can now quenelle with aplomb
Emitting sounds of joy
When before my kitchen held only the silence of disuse.
O Masterchef
My love
My addiction
What I hold out for each day, even on Saturdays, when there is only a sad and empty longing in my heart
How I will miss you. How can I go on?
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Thank you for posting! You've just made my day :)