Soupy ... me ... Satire
Ecclesiastes 4:5
5 The fool folds his hands and does no work,
so he has nothing to eat but his own flesh.
Satire
Let this be well understood
“Flesh is flesh my man!”
A little here and a little there
Makes quite a pot of soup
With a mind of veggies
And some stuff that’s canned
We put it all together
Caught in the same loop
It started all so innocent
With a slap on the “hinny”
Then a scream, a cry, a tear
And there was a new beginning
All what’s happening now
Is far from milk and honey
As I get slapped around a bit
As my “world” seems spinning
The soup that I am today
Is surely over-seasoned
The after taste will surely
Be bitter and rang
Out of touch with reality
Far beyond any reason
The soup boiled over long ago
To depart without a bang
Jan Wienen