Ink Leaves Poem by Obi Yindal

Into the land of ink leaves I enter
Without the slightest idea
Of what I’ll have from the menu today;
So much to choose from
And many avenues to turn,
Delicious dishes await my perusal.
Endless rows of the hard and soft nourishments;
Endless rows of the healthy or the poisonous leaves;
Each designed with a name to mesmerize
And tickle my brain.
As I walk up the stairs
And throw eyes at the floors,
And sit at the tables,
Then travel through the elevator,
Out to enter another maze,
Into more ink leaves,
Without the slightest idea
Of what I’ll have from the menu today.
So much to choose from
And many avenues to turn.
I threw my mind out the window
To be at home with ink leaves.