Feast (an acrostic poem)

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Focusing on the food was what gave him pleasure

Every morsel perfectly prepared and consummately seasoned

At the moment he could think of nothing better existing in the universe

So why was his stomach still an echo chamber of empty rumbles?

The fact the meal in question was just an old magazine spread and he had no money

Quiet (an acrostic poem)

Quorum was reached without a single word said

United they cast their reticent votes into the hat

It would only be a few silent moments before the whole thing was over

Even though the ramifications would echo unspoken for years

Too bad the rest of the group was tone deaf to the problem

 

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