Extreme Greens Poem by Sydne Morris

A Knife is cutting my family and me to pieces
How did we get here wrapped in that breath-stealing plastic
A hand shadowed our light and grabbed us
We only saw a glimpse of the floor as the cooking pot became our own home
The heat consumed my family leaving me barely alive
My sweat turning into a sweet juice
A couple of meat bones from the dead turkey joined me
However they were silent as a grave
Finally the heat left me
I was placed in a glass container
My view changed from a steel pot to a dark wood table
From that moment I knew that I would be digested in those stomachs growling from foods
If greens could talk, my screams would echo from the glass container
Except that will never happen
So silently I await my fate

Dedicated to all the food of Thanksgiving