Dining, Memories From Bridge City Poem by Quame Boatmann
Dining, Memories From Bridge City
We were given breakfast for supper
Though we had a watery porridge with no sugar
And a lean bread as heavy as the fluffy fibre
this morning
Yet the large dining hall couldn’t contain all of us.
Why won’t we rush out in the night?
For a better taste
And when we run out of money
We rely on the barter system to endure
The rest of the days ahead
Till the end
The day we all anticipate most.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/2/2024 12:22:18 AM # 1.0.0.1119
