I wrote this at lunch hour, watching from afar at my fellow students.
What Am I? Tell me what Am I?
I lurk in the city suburbs
I drink the blood and eat the flesh of the low class.
Their blood is very sweet and their flesh is chewy
I cannot get enough of it
One day a middle class drops by and I try him
His flesh is meaty and his blood is so sweet
I lurk now in the middle level of the city
They are my feast. I need more.
One day I hear from my lunch about the high class.
Their blood is thicker than water, and tastier
I ponder as I rip my lunch and sip the red ooze.
I ascend to the highest level and gaze at the wonderful food
They dress like kings and eat like gods
I faint from lust and love.
I am in heaven
So tell me, What Am I, my sweet, sweet dear lunch