That Time

The most difficult of all the times to spend,
Is the time you wait,
After you order your food,
And before the waiter gets it.
You see all sorts of mouth-watering stuff,
Being brought up to your table,
And then they pass to some other table,
Serving the others.
You look at their faces,
They have a contemptuous smile,
That they got their food before you.
You can’t afford to look at the menu,
Because it is too delicious,
And you can’t look up,
Because right in front of your eyes,
Lies the kitchen.
And whenever their door opens,
A plethora of smells,
Of lamb in oyster sauce,
Of broccolis in schezuan,
Of Worcestershire dipped chicken,
And fried noodles,
They tingle the olfactory,
And persist there for long,
And oh, the joy,
When finally you see your waiter,
Coming up with your,
Grilled chicken breasts and sizzler!

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