Bored outta my mind cause all this stuff I emphasised
Like standing in a line but couldn’t decide what I like
And It’s moving faster, each day closer to my demise
It’ll be my turn soon; Still no idea what I need in life.
All the inputs and the chitter-chatter that I spy
“Maybe extra drinks, nahh more like extra fries”
My mind goes tumbling; each side looks the same size
“I care about their opinions”, but do I? Hell no, I lied.
Devoured the appetisers, waiting for the main course
“It’ll take some time, sir, please be patient”, and I froze
Flipping through the menu, too many options my mind chose
Weighing the pros and cons, the server’s on the loose, though.
The spot is just filled to the brim with even hungrier brethren
The ingredients are limited, all these dishes might soon end
Should I wait my turn, roll the dice, pray I get moved in
Or jump the gun and get in turn way before those fool men.
It’s a matter of taste, what goes around comes to bite you
Return the dish you hate, will they refund your plate or fight you
Complain to the manager, who knows what he might do?
Or die of starvation and put a close to this poor-man’s haiku.
By: Arman Yusuf
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