The Fable of the Table of Food

It could cost two cents

Or anything at all

The life I've led is behind me

It could cost me sweat

Or sleepless nights

I fall to bed and blindly 

I tear up and cry

I don't understand 

What have I done with my life

I've wasted so much time and I can see

I make my way through the dark

And I try to survive

I may work to eat some bread

The life I've led is regretfully too painful

Sooner or later I'm just moving 

Towards a spoon of sugar for my coffee

And my tea

It is is life's little things

Simple things

Instead I look for more

Like some strawberry jam for bread.

I ask myself 

Why 

I just don't understand God's plan for me

It is a gift to me

And everything to me

It can be worthless

And I can surrender my desire for things

Pepper my rice

And use my scorn

Like a thorn

From a light pink rose

From my garden of sweet lure and fables

Write on store bought paper and pens

Atleast I have food on the oak table

That hasn't changed very much like most 

Things in my life

I welcome change

But I cherish and treasure the field mice 

That run through my garden

And all the little things that are free 

Like my faith and my worship

And my love for my country