Happy Meal Poem by Michael Witkowski

Yesterday i was the master -Had
to control my talking -All i said
would be welcome but i should
give others a chance to speak, not
crave to hear myself speak

An hour ago, cuddles in the quiet of the
smoker's room, only our voices are heard
and maybe a lonely voice from the brekkie
room - but everything mastered well and i am
centre of attention, a long missed relative

asked about often, that left a gap
in the net of this community, who
will eat all this yummy pudding, who
will drink the gallons of milk- who
will entertain us with his direct jibs

aye the place i almost neglected,
shun by an hour in fear of meeting
a cold waspish person, turned out
to give me a happy meal after all