She’s embarked on a new life.
She’s born again.
But how nice it would be to meet
the ghost of her former self
And maybe even taste the foods she no longer keeps on the shelf.
Alas, the hand I am dealt does little for my nourishment,
But dignified, I accept the punishment every time she comes around,
of knowing that she’ll probably never come around.
© 2014 Kelvin S. Pompey