Esophagus
I enter the pantry enclosed by rectangular shaped daggers
Sharper than swords, these penetrate the mind
The chef stands adjacent to the board, ready to “teach” the lesson
Clearly cynical, I sit and watch the concoction of words,
The conduction of work and the explanation of its worth
I can watch, you teach me algebra or verbs
But can I combine the two to create a book?
Simple and plain if the music goes in one ear and out the other
Some of you are like they who have little confidence in your craft
Need to stay out of the kitchen
Spice up minds with lessons of life, rather than effortless lines
I want to understand and digest my food of knowledge
Learning is a process; my brain is not a microwave
The process is innate; I wish to see your confidence
It should resonate within and not go through my esophagus again