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!