If you are what you eat then I’m a three course meal, Pan seared sadness, with a side of puréed potential and pessimistic gratain; A staple diet, a comforting meal, Never deviating from the menu and never getting it wrong.
And once I am full and content Of my self loathing feast, I absorb all the nutrients To feed the depressive beast.
I cannot skip a meal, Believe me I have tried, But the beast is always starved of sadness, So I season my meal with the tears I’ve cried.
And yet I am still so goddam hungry; Starving for a slice of pie, Salivating at anything warm and inviting, However knowing these are things ill never try
So as you hold the hands of your loved ones Around the dinner table; Thank the lord for the meal you are about to receive, And make sure kindness and love are staple.