Unforgettable, thats what You are

my last meal

who would wait to choose as he pleases
from the gallons of vast wine and cheeses?
Or search to find the best cut of meat
only to end up with a case of cold feet?

"To eat to live or to live to eat?"
ive heard it said aplenty
apparent as the question may be,
to him who walks down life's final aisle
to him, it won't be dandy

who knows what awaits as he turns the corner?
a knife? a gun? a speeding car?
or illness that plagues the body, creeping like a cancer
he walks the path of solitute and turns to find the answer

a life taken for granted
of taste, of sound and colour
a life regretting not pausing to feel
the splendour, the smell of flowers

my last meal i dont know when
but this i know and desire
to eat with gratitude and give praise
like it's the last
to the one who is my consuming fire.