I will whimper most pitifully, dear, if you
Don't feed me soon. I feel I'm near death.
A simple cheese sandwich, a handful
Of crackers, could keep me still living,
Though I'd need a drink, maybe mineral
Water, if I was to thrive. Speaking
Of thriving, more elegant food, the tail
Of a lobster, a sirloin tip steak, potatoes
Au gratin with baked Brussels sprouts,
Would guarantee that I could greet
The next dawn, embrace it, you also,
And do so with glee, no trace
Of a whimper from me.