Two Eggs Before Church? No.

Two Eggs Before Church? No.

Two eggs for breakfast, so rich and divine,

But beware their power when the clock strikes nine.

The sermon begins, the hymns take flight,

Yet your stomach groans—something’s not quite right.

The yolks, so golden, may seem a delight,

But in haste, they’ve sparked an inner fight.

The pews grow warm, the air feels tight,

You shift uncomfortably, seeking respite.

The preacher speaks of calm and grace,

But you’re trapped in a gastronomic race.

The chorus swells, the prayers ascend,

While you pray this turmoil will soon end.

The preacher was upset at the trump let go,

It wasn’t the sound—it was the smell, you know.

I thought he was going to be sick,

The service was over in record quick!

Please forgive me god 🙏