Today, March 9th, marks the 1 day dankiversary of a sandwich I ate yesterday. Words cannot sum up the greatness of this sandwich. It was a good sandwich, being so magnificent in structure, containing Peanut, and butter meshed together. Then it was enveloped in lucious bread, making the perfect shape for the average mouth. It's sad that I ate it, though it was so worth it for the soft, delicious interior of the casing of wheat bread.
The sandwich was created for my lunch, in which it served it's purpose quite well. It was quite good, actually. My friends say me eat it with dignity and respect. I even ate the crust, which was perfectly evenly browned on all aspects. It had some wholes on the top, which made it look flattering in appearance. It was delicious.
I feel as though my mouth and need for sustanence shortened it's average lifespan significantly. But I ate it, and it is gone now. I loved this sandwich, and I'm pretty sure it loved me back, as should any good piece of food. It loved me more than my great great great uncle ever will, and that's saying a little. This food was like family, and it still is, because it's probably still inside of me.
It was always discriminated because it was a half sandwich, and only one piece of bread, and the other sandwiches made fun of it. I defended this sandwich from the bullies. It defended me from hunger, and it sacrificed itself for the good of my stomach. It was a good man, and it died for me. Does that mean I have to be a hero to others in the future, I'm not sure I can follow the footsteps of this beautiful creature.
Farewell Peanut butter sandwich I had for lunch today. You have brought me sustanence. You were one of if not the best items in my lunch, and it's depressing to see the great ones burn out. You were, and always will be, a true American hero, and I truly believe you are a beautiful creature.