The Lunchbox

At four forty five, which does  draw near,
As food and drinks are thrown away,
I'll live to see another day,
In dishes and Tubberware,
I've emptied all my mealtime wares,
left all alone, like a puppy at the pound,
Until morning comes around,
Then I'll go home, and I'll come back,
filled-up with brand new meals and snacks.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Nance Avatar
May 29, 2014 at 3:47 PM
ha nice unique perspective, refreshingly different, well done :)
Palmer Avatar
May 29, 2014 at 11:18 AM
nice write Yvonne,sounds crunchy lol
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace