Food cheers,
food cries,
food laughs.

I eat the same ham sandwich, five days a week.
A sandwich made the way I want it, as precise as a clock.
A sandwich that cheers to be made once more. 

Then my food nemesis comes like an unstoppable meteor.

He comes in fast,
he sits down fast,
he just sits, waiting.

He waits until I open my lunch, five days a week.
He waits like a sleeping dragon waiting to be woken.
He waits until he steals my sandwich;
which desperately cries for help, and no help to come.

My food nemesis reaches out like an arrow shot from a bow.

He took it fast,
he took it alone,
he took my sandwich.

I sit alone, no more lunch left for me, five days a week.
I sit alone, no one there to help me: another flower in a batch.
I sit alone, laughing at how he took my sandwich like a fearsome lion.

My food nemesis never knows what I do when he leaves.

I grab a sandwich,
the one that was made once more,
and I laugh a victory laugh.