Food for thought

When fate consumes the taste of time, men forget add spices such as hope and faith;
Then the corner stones of our memories become bland and allis lost in stirred up tea cup dreams.
Reality becomes a dish that best served cold, on a dining table that is not seasoned well with love;
The past is a lite starter that is over seen; the present is a heavy meal too much to swallow and  the future is a dessert too sweet to be handled by wisdom teeth.
We set our minds to 180 degrees to be oven baked Blythe pains of the past;
Buttered thoughts interrupts the fellowship of breaking bread that takes place amongst gentlemen;
And the usual 9 to 5 delicacies that don't garnish the conscious mind state of a family.
Our needs and wants are pallets that are very unbalanced and our interpretations of dreams are fried medium rare;
So now that the steaks are high because we have beef with each other for our ego's are scrambled.
The neighbours have planted their noses in the sky, poking into other peoples business as if there is something fishy.
We pray on seeking negativity by picking on it with tooth picks, which we find in our teeth;
As we digest, false and shook while at it as it all goes down the wrong pipe.
The sweet aroma of the truth, plunges into the air around the buffet of knowledge;
Which looks appetizing to ears, but it doesn't stimulate the mind.
One way or the other, we must accept that life is not served on a silver platter;
nor will it be sugar coated with icing or even be simply presented on dressing salad.
For life can not be easily dissected into bits and pieces to get to the bottom of the plate by using forks and knifes.
So if you can not handle life's pressure heat... i advise that you step out of reality's... kitchen