Nutrition

What was once a table
of sweet greens and succulent meats
has become a table
with things scraped off one's feet.

Soot litters everything,
and the flavour suffers deeply.
Not even the rats eat the scraps,
as they scurry about creepily.

My muscles burn and my mind weakens
as I choke down this unworthy gruel.
I feel like a pig at the slop bucket,
being whipped just to be extra cruel.

I remember when I could enjoy my food.
It had such a variation of taste.
Now with the new products released,
it reminds me of plastics and paste.

I try to eat the final forkful of this failure
with all the strength I can muster.
No condiment could save this meal,
not even the most flavourful mustard.

My senses can only perceive
a scent of gunpowder and salt.
I immediate vomit up my supper
and curse whoever I can find at fault.

My throat feels scratchy and dries
with the bile and acid that now rise.
What's the point of keeping these supplies
when he who eats it dies?