Eating disorder, or is it?
It's eat or be eaten, you can't miss it,
That's the order of the disorder,
Hooked to a food chain, or should I say food train.
You come into this world, cut from a chord,
Made from food by your overlord,
As decades roll by, food becomes you,
Because you got to refuel to do what you do.
So you keep eating till you die,
(You just couldn't stay away from that last french fry,)
But don't you worry about who, what and why,
When you're part of the menu it's not hard to say goodbye.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I won't cry cuz food is a wonderful.