Top Choice Steak

There is nothing wrong,
With someone acquiring a taste...
For chopped liver.
Smothered in olive oil,
And seasoned with carmelized onions.
I see nothing wrong with that at all.
Forked or finger pinched to nibble.

It's just the expectations of someone,
Assuming to consume me...
As a fantasy to feed on.
And whether or not they like what I've got...
I will be no one's chopped liver.
Especially when it took me too long,
To be recognized as top choice steak!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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