Black Poetry : Take Out


Well-Known Member
Jun 11, 2003
Baltimore, MD
Praising The Lord
What is brought to my plate?

Is it a re-conditioning of that natural me
Erasing a small part of myself
Just to fit into a zone
That perhaps I never belong
Always in search of finding
Myself and then becoming
Lost in the process.
So the plate once again is full
And there no room for more,
Yet it piles up even higher.
No longer eating
Slowly starving
It's just too much.
For my eyes,
To take in.
The Heart is burning
From the taste of it,
from the sight of it.
The taste bud dissolves.
and the mind and body starve
Because what is before me
on the plate.
Has taken the appetite away.
Is it a re-conditioning of the natural me?
A wish to belong,
Forcing my self to like
whats set before me.
Just to dine in the same circle.
I could use a new recipe
Yet I'm
Finding myself using
the same seasoning from the
past cafe.
Do I Walk away?
Dine in?
I don't know
I'm still trying to find me
and it's not in the four walls of
my pantry. I look and see
I'm still missing
some vital ingredient
for a new something

The world is to
small a place to
always dine alone.
I want to take in
as much as I can.
I'll just be

Bringing my own bag
With enough to share

bon appetit


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