Below is the poem entitled Silver Spoons which was written by poet
Boskovski. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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Silver spoons sit at evening diner tables
Forks and knives acompany these lonesome
No one orders soup, but instead a large steak,
with mashed potatoes and gravy, with steamed vegetables.
The fork and knife are put to good use,
As the silver spoon sits there and watches,
As grimy hands, man handle the knife and fork
violently cutting away at the red meat.
Silver Spoons smile, thanking they aren't used
for steaks and mashed potatoes.
But silver spoons meed to be used too.
Waiting for one day, during lunch rush
for someone to come in and sit and ask,
"What is the special for soups today?"
Silver spoons brighten their eyes and smile,
but that time never comes.
Just another guy ordering steaks, or a hamburger and fries.
Poor silver spoons, not even used to stir their customer's coffee,
they use knives, instead of silver spoons.
Poor silver spoons, waiting for a beautiful woman to come in and order the soup.