The Cooks Poem by Tolu Akinwole

In the morning,
They cook the food in a large pot,
Telling us that when it's done
We will eat and refuse to eat.
Yet when the food is done they give us a little.
'That's all you need', they say,
'For lunch will be served soon.'

At noon,
They make the aroma play at our nostrils,
And tell us how the meal will taste.
But when it's done we get a little -
They tell us dinner will soon come.

In the evening,
They promise to serve us meat -
Meat bigger than our heads,
And wine enough to drown Titanic.
When the time comes they give us a little
And send us to bed saying:
'Go and sleep, dearie,
It's only a dinner; you don't need much'.