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A Good Day For Bread

They found his diary under his bed
I couldn’t believe what it said
He wished he had found me dead
With nothing left besides my head
Or maybe my guts riddled and filled with lead
The worms and maggots would be nicely fed
He imagined I’d be wearing red
Not a shawl or dress but just the blood I had bled
And after all the tears had shed
He’d stitch me up with needle and thread
At all long last, we could be wed
I sat with all the words I’d read
And let my stomach fill up with dread
Then I stood up and baked some bread