Multituduos hands hold my legs,
Some pulling here and some there.
'Come,work for us' the former said.
While other chewed 'We'll pay you here well'.
Hither to hence i know not,
For i'm almost cracked like a nut.
Whenever the festivals are here:
Well,for those that care:
(Even the large mas and newyear),
They always want me there.
For some to serve many,
While other to please any.
Some use me for any style,
While some press me till i'm dried.
Even adamic calls me different name,
'Jollof','Fried' conveying my fame.
Yet i'm my real self,
Shuffling variant shelves.
If i sent my absence on any of their celebration,
Then the festival is but omission.
'Soy Popular' than i think,
Yet my fame never shrink.
I travel without stress,
On them did i rest.
I live a joyful life,
But being with them is strife.
'Fame is good but makes many rude'.
Though i'm yet myself,
Barging many shelves.
Even presidents adore me,
For i'm always a meal.
This is who i am,
Well,for those who care,I'm RICE.
Share This Poem
This Poems Story
A clownic depiction of the usefulness of RICE.