Being Counted

A foul stench arrived and was introduced to my nose Brought to my attention by food not properly disposed My eyes then watered and then I got ill Fetid food had made me sick and green to the gill Then it gave my stomach aches and gave me the woes My blood pressure boiled and then my nausea rose. Quickly I left the kitchen and headed for the bathroom So there my sickness I could quickly resume Into the toilet I hastily returned my lunch Along with my breakfast, and also my brunch My stomach was emptied from all food consumed Then upon my face, clothes and body I quickly perfumed Onto the street I quickly ran for some needed fresh air I noticed the many people that were walking and talking out there They were hustling and bustling and many were obscure Even though they were worried and sad, and even unsure Many of the people were liars and cheats, and they did not care But they knew how to curse, but not how to say a prayer. So now I figured it best to leave when the food is rotten And I remember as well, some people are best when forgotten When it is my turn I thought, how do I want to be counted By the food that I saw spoiled, or by the people I have discounted Until then I will hold my nose and in my ears I will place cotton I will eat only what is cooked, and I will ignore the misbegotten. Randy L. McClave