If noodles have the mouth,
It may cry in pain,
For the process of elongation,
From the simple dough,
that can be kept in the oven,
to bake as the bread to feel the cut,
later when the cooling is done,
on the rack, the fillings are fixed,
the sweetest jam from the ripe fruit,
the meat from the well fed animals,
the sandwich go between the jaws,
get bitten bit by bit to feel the hurt,
without pain, vain and cry,
no one has ever experienced the pleasure,
when the nutrients go through the heart,
and the mind, these may know why the sufferings are for.
veeraiyah subbulakshmi
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/meant-to-be-something/
