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At The Table of Life

I'm feasting at this the table of life,

No knife no fork just a blunt knife.

My plate is filled and I can't get through fast enough,

I'm filled but the waiter willing adds more stuff.

There heaps of lovely meat burnt, black and bitter,

There's vegetables too: all trying to turn me into a quitter.

I eat as fast as I can but more obstacles appear,

My plate seems to never get clear.

I look around hoping for a fork or even a spoon,

This plate has to be cleared and soon.

I'm becoming full, can't eat much more,

Yet I know I have to eat all my hosts have on store.

This inevitability awakens a reality,

I can't get up, can't fight the feast,

I just have to eat, feast like a beast.

I swallow and awaken my hunger,

Toss the knife aside and fingers dig in,

I will make it through, I have no choice but to win.

 

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