Dreamer…a story poem
I was born to dance
to create masterpieces
to be whatever
I wished to be
instead
I make dinner
in the kitchen
of people
I don’t like
and they expect me
to be
grateful
happy even
I’m supposed to
consider myself
lucky
to be bossed around
to clean up after
them
to make their food
well
just a drop
or two
of this tasteless poison
in today’s soup
and I’ll never
have to answer
to them
again
I mean
it’s not like
forensics has been
invented
or anything
I should be fine
no worries
Photo: Birmingham Museums Trust
Unsplash
Written
on May 8, 2023