The crumbs that fall provide sustenance.
It eases the hunger just a tad.
But you are hungry after a moment.
Waiting, hankering for some to fall.
This meal spread for one. You wait.
Taking what you can get.
For me, I eat well and with gusto.
Crumbs are never enough.
Never enough for my health.
I like a meal with all the courses.
I like more. And then some.
Crumbs don’t fill me.
Being fed at another’s whim.
Who are you without the crumbs?
Will you starve, become emaciated.
Skin stretched over bones
Eyes sunken, Shrunken.
Forever at the foot of the table.
Leaning against its leg when you become weak.
Waiting. Anxiously waiting.
For your crumb.
You would love that leg o’ lamb.
It smells delicious.
Afraid to ask, you drool and wait.
A crumb may fall.
You feel lucky you were invited in.
The crumbs your Godsend.
You don’t want to be ushered out.
The door slammed in your face.
Don’t want to be left out in the cold.
You decide, crumbs are good.
Better than nothing.
You resolve and wait.
More crumbs will fall.
You return to the table leg.
Your home. This is where you wait.
Unaware that there is nothing more.
There never will be more. Just crumbs.
This here is a meal for One.