Karma on a cold plate

poem by: Anna Tate
Written on Jun 22, 2017

Im now eating a dish best served cold 
Karma on a plate thats began to rot & mould. 

It's serving consists of fresh gone by its expiry date. 
& now i eat in my regrets 
& my selfloathing hate.  

For what I've cooked up for others in the past
Now comes back to haunt me in greater forces cast. 

Its meal consists  of ingredients rot at its very  worst. 
Which has became a crusted serving i eat which ive been  cursed. 

So be warned of how you feed yourself I'm life to others 
For this is not a loving meal tha is lovingly cooked up by mothers. 

It's chef is known to us as karma
& from its kitchen i now feed. 
Upon a serving of rotten ingredients  I'm now to feed in my past greed. 

A recipe specifically made up just  for me
With many courses yet to come 
In a poisoned meal on its plate I see.
Copyright © Anna Sabrina Tate | Year Posted 2017

 

Tags: humor, rhyme,

Add Comment


Robert Kohlhammer commented:
A poem to read and feel philosophical with.
Anna Tate commented:
Appreciate your comment thanks

 

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