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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Food/Cooking · #2210687
He raids the icebox at midnight.
There are places
in the icebox,
and a hungry man
will search them out.
On the shelves
and in the slide-bins,
he will reach about
and be himself.
But through all
the midnight raids
in search of vittles,
with cold chicken legs
and spuds all set,
perhaps there is a slice
of lunchtime pizza…
in his own mind,
there is regret.

There are places
in the freezer,
and a hungry man
will search in vain.
Near the ice trays
and the entrees,
he will eye the space
and feel hunger pain.
All the searching
then will turn to
and sighs will abide
as Bud Lite flows.
He’s left with one
cold, hard fact to
chew on: there are
never enough tacos

34 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2210687