Wishful Thinking

Plates full of the finest foodery laid out before empty chairs
Send their heavenly aromas to fill my nostrils,
And tempt my taste buds.

I sit with an empty belly before a plate full of maggots,
Hunger threatening to bring madness, fork in hand,
But I will not eat.

Bountiful platters laden with the finest of foods surround me,
Mouth waters with desire; my soul needs to be fed,
But I cannot reach.

Paper chains bind me in place, I stretch and reach to no avail,
But surely I can break these petty bonds of paper.
I should try once more.

Inhaling deep, the sweet aroma of divine delicacies
Brings with it strength beyond my wildest fanatasies,
In a moment: Freedom!