Poetry among the arts
April 11, 2016
Green with Envy.
You push me to the right.
You push me to the left.
Now I am all alone on this plate.
The garlic mashed potatoes were picked first.
Then the fried chicken.
Followed by the carrots.
Even the peas I thought you hated.
I am always last, if picked at all.
Even when I dress myself up with melted cheese.
Green with envy,
I’m left for the dog to eat.