Pumpkin Pie Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Pumpkin Pie

I was born in a farm,
Family were around,
As cousins, uncles, aunts,
All of us lived as one.

I never said my name
Cause I was just a part
Of a "Pumpkin" social;
And of it, was proud.

Knew not and cared not
What others around us,
Were named, called…

They let us to be we
We let them to be they;
Life was a give and take.

Of course, we disagreed
If we could, went further,
Withdrew if we failed.

This was life for us all,
Our tribe, their tribes.

Suddenly came two hands
Picked me up, off our land
Cut stem and the leaves.

I became "Lone Pumpkin."

They moved me and I sat
Somewhere far, in no land.

On table, I, one day
Saw them peel my skin
And later, took my seeds!

As the knife penetrates
One can feel how it hurts;
And I was an orphan…

"What is this? " sadly asked,
"We love you and help you; "
They replied, talked in chat:
"We want to make you pie,
Since pie is civilised…"

They cut me in pieces
And set me in water
Of the pot, for hours…

After time, looked around
Could see them, but no "I"
Every part of me "Gone"
Was in search of my eyes
And ears and the mouth.

None of them existed
Or, that is what I thought.

Kept shouting and cried:
"Who am I? where am I? "

Heard sky and the walls:
"You are a piece of pie! "

What is that?
Was question.

Never came a reply.

As a child of the farm
That used the high skies
For cover, days and nights
Was also nature's child
In all of four seasons
With joy and pleasure.

Sweet pie to others
Feels cold of freezer
In the bones as needles;
I have lost my senses;
Eyes and tongue to ears!