Riches to rags was my tale,
But it was Asif I still wore rags on a throne,
It was my first time being to a fancy restaurant,
The prices were amounts I'd never even dreamt of paying as rent money,
At least I wasn't paying,
I sat down,
It was a meal with his family,
The cutleries got me confused,
How many spoons did one person need anyway!?!
I decided to follow what I would observe,
But they wanted me to taste the food first,
4 spoons, 4 forks, 1 knife, 1 soup,
The decision was up to me,
The wait was building up tension,
So I picked up the plate,
And drank directly.
I looked at my 'in-laws to be', when I was done,
In expectance Of a scolding,
They only smiled in approval and said,
"You chose correctly"
YOU ARE READING
Flying Umbrella
PoetryPoetry book of an umbrella, who had her own way of life. × × × I write on the pictures in every page, I'll just keep adding anytime I can, but I'll love you to check it out! Comment and VOTE!!❤️ Happy Reading 🌺🌺
