Mar 27
The mean old man,
he’s serving food.
I’m not a fan
of how he’s rude.
His angry voice
and bitter way,
give me no choice
but stay away.
I dare not feel
his rotten soul.
Such icy steel
just takes its toll.
If I avoid
while he prepares,
I’m less annoyed
in vile he shares.
And so I wait
for him to go.
And play with fate
I do not know.
he’s serving food.
I’m not a fan
of how he’s rude.
His angry voice
and bitter way,
give me no choice
but stay away.
I dare not feel
his rotten soul.
Such icy steel
just takes its toll.
If I avoid
while he prepares,
I’m less annoyed
in vile he shares.
And so I wait
for him to go.
And play with fate
I do not know.
This poem was inspired by a poet on hello poetry. I live in a group home. A lot of the food is not that bad. It’s the attitude of many of the chefs that really ruin the eating experience. There is not much I can do about it. I just have to wait and hope things get better.
