Who Shall I Have For Dinner

Who shall I have for dinner? The fever inside me has grown so old The human flesh is wrinkling and brittle the bones I served you well as an experiment told I am the picture that reflects my story of love and souls The starter began with a soup poured into a dish so cold It fed me well but growing boys hunger for meaty goals A rare steak delivered to me in the shape of an English rose I grew so confident and stronger my hunger over flows My last course was a pudding of a selection of fruits all bold I knew from the last fruit I ate that I’d eaten too much as the pater knows Frequently I remember that first meal as my dreams unfold Nothing ever tasted so good after that because the restaurant had to close.