An expanded version of this poem with new illustrations is now available on Kindle!
There’s a woman whose name is Lisa,
And she can never find peace,
She’s a woman whose head is a pizza,
And her body is made out of cheese,
Whenever anyone sees her,
They then try to munch on her face,
It’s very tough for poor Lisa,
When she wants to go visit a place,
Because of her bizarre condition,
She very often stays indoors,
If you go into her kitchen,
There’s tomato sauce stains all over the floor,
To her a cool house is nice,
She would melt if there was too much heat,
She lays out traps for mice,
To stop them from nibbling her feet.
In her safe home stays our Lisa,
To live a life that’s so lonely,
For she’s a woman whose head is a pizza,
With mozzarella and pepperoni.