There came a Friday
after a week of fatigue.
I longed bodily and spiritually;
it left me famished and
looking for a meal

from the poem I was offered.
I took what was given to me
as if it were all I would ever have
again — Friday came and went
and was left behind along with

this meager work,
all I have to take for nourishment —
eh, it is what I have been given.
I should be thankful for it.
Should take a morsel

and let it be a bountiful feast.
But still — I have a hunger
unsatisfied. I long to tear in
to a colossal portion. But
I take what I am offered,

though it is far from enough.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T