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Kitchen War

by louis gander © 2017

Discussions were beginning in the kitchen fraught with hate -
and anger soon was spreading with the "who was best" debate.

"I'm protein for the people," said the big roast to the greens.
"I am so much, much better than potatoes, corn and beans."

"Without my oven you are absolutely nothing around here,"
said the stove so loudly so that all the rest could hear.

Close by was some oregano, paprika and some clove.
"Oh, do not boast for you are but an old and rusted stove.

Said the sea salt to the spices, "Here's some good advice.
If you can't add some flavor, you're no better than the rice."

Said the white rice to the sea salt, "Let me say a thing or two.
The spices have a million times more flavor than you do.

The fridge could not stay silent and the toaster now was hot.
Disposal? It was spinning while the blender had forgot.

And that is how it started as the food began to fly.
Please tell me why there's no respect. Please tell me, tell me why.

From floor to wall to ceiling, there was food stuck everywhere.
And you could even see the peas come bouncing down the stair.

The bragging had continued and the sink began to boast!
Then gravy splashed the window...and the fork had stabbed the roast!

The big 'ol roast let out a acream. "I'm dying!" was his yell.
It rolled right off the table and on the floor it fell.

The hush was so immediate and no one said a word.
No sound was heard except from one small window perching bird.

Hysterically, it laughed and laughed. I thought it'd blow its cork.
And then we all had seen it too - that cheap weak plastic fork.

The laughter had crescendoed and it filled that messy room.
But then who had to clean it up? The dustpan and the broom.

Not one had learned a lesson and not one humility.
They still each think they are the best. That's how they'll always be -

UNLESS they all repent and learn of God's most precious Son.
ONLY THEN can we have peace for each and everyone.

Until then we will be at odds. Until then we will fight.
Until then we will be at war - and world, a messy sight.

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This poem was a finalist in the October 2017 poetry contest

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