Here is a poem I wrote back in college, even more fitting now that I have gone vegan.
Oh! Lament for the uneaten chicken!
It occupies its place
At the bottom of my fridge,
Scorned, rejected, disgraced!
It could have been cacciatore
It could have gone well with Chablis
But now it sits alone on a plate
As though it were diseased
It will not grill nor marinate,
It will not be seasoned and served
It will probably just go in the garbage,
A fate no bird deserves
And such a waste, not just of a life
But of some perfectly edible food!
But there’s nothing with which to make it
And besides, I’m not in the mood.
Oh! Lament for the uneaten chicken!
It occupies its place
At the bottom of my fridge
Scorned, rejected, disgraced!