The hot potatoes
Out of the oven too
long
It isn’t hot
anymore
It stays cool
Once it could sing
The power game of
control
In the oven
knocking the lid
Nobody could sleep
easily
It’s heydays
The water needed to
splash
Giving it a face
lift
To see the world in
the air
The power in the
knocking
The pot of gold
would sing
Loudly to the
members
Strike it to the
core
The strong wind
came
Blow the lid off
Exposing the hot
potatoes
The pot tumbled over
It isn’t hot
anymore
The potatoes are
expose
The butcher knife
will strike
When the chef
receives order
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