I.
Bitter, strong, plenty
These are your own words
Served in a silver platter
Large enough to share
But better consumed by one
II.
Bitter, strong, plenty
These are your own words
Frozen but not forgotten
Religiously kept over time
But stays fresh and never expires
III
I thought hard and well
That if I let you eat your words
You’ll never be hungry a day in your life
But I was wrong
For you seem to be gaping in starvation
IV.
Bitter, strong, plenty
These are your own words
Those you spoke and now eat
And now I understand why you still starve
I’ve tasted them and known they were empty
