Poetry: Starving after a Feast

“Here,” they shout.
“Feast.”
All of this can be yours
A task beyond ease

And, of course
for a fee

The Kings and High Queens
behind the table
to the peasants on bleeding knees
“Reach if you are able”

And of course, without thought
they fight tooth and nail
toward the table, they claw
But only a few will prevail

Some are stomped
Some blatantly killed
This is the cost
of a winners will

When they finally reach
the table and it’s grand feast
there before the kings and queens
they receive a greet
Then mouths, oh so pleased
smile and say
“You may eat.”

The winner is handed
a platter of their dreams

“I’ve done it.
I’ve done it, finally.”

But when they look back, they see
all the people they left
They left to bleed
in an ocean of screams

Then they realize, haunted
this isn’t what they wanted
They traveled so far
for a feast that made them starve

---

The grass isn’t always greener on the other side. Sadly, it takes reaching the other side to find that out.

Thanks for reading! Stop back by tomorrow morning for more poetry 🙂

Jordan Antonacci