I am like the left over stew
You know-from the day before?
My flavor has become deeper
But who really wants more?
Think about that question
Peruse your overwhelming appetite
Chew on all of your choices
'Out of mind-when out of sight? '
Put back in the refrigerator
After a five day chill-i shout
Would you even hear my screams?
Or turn a deaf ear-and throw me out?
By, Theodora Onken
December 21,2011
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem