If I could, I would fast instead,

but these concoctions of God, wasted

among those with less voracity.

So, it is up to me exclusively

to savor life’s precious bounty

from His glorious garden of whey.

It hurts my heart to continue,

but starvation claimed me before

and I shall return never more!

I remain by myself and by my shame.

I continue to eat my claim

to His glorious garden of whey.

Others have sought for the garden now.

Their appetites never cowed

but their forms haunt and voices howl.

They threaten for their share one last time.

Their threats do little to cause scurry,

and so I remain as the bells chime

in His glorious garden of whey.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741