Monday, October 23, 2006

My Life As An Omelette

To think of all
The times I spent
Shivering in my box
With my five companions
Worried that
I might be poached
Or scrambled
Fried
Beaten
Or boiled
Or worse yet
Cracked
Thinking of my days
As a young yolk
Fresh in my shell
Straight from the hen
All cosy
And warm
Nested in the hay
Till human hands
Plucked me away
Now here I am
Cooking in a pan
With two of my fellows
A bit of cheese
Some mushrooms
That have lost their stems
Poor things
And it doesn’t seem so bad
It’s a useful thing
To be food on a plate
Who knows who I might feed
And what they will do
For this world
All in all
A very honourable end
For an egg

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