“Penne Rosa, please,”
I say to the cashier.

The gooey rosa sauce I smell,
the taste will soon be here.

I then leave the register
with penne on my mind.

Waiting feels like ages,
I pace, wasting time.

I long to here my number called,
my shining red card reads 23.

After a moment the words call out,
“Will 23 please come to me?”

My food is finally ready,
I can hardly wait to seat.

My heart warms, my mind calms,
that Penne Rosa will be mine to eat.

Soon enough reality sets in,
my food is almost gone.

I dread the thought of an empty bowl,
for I have waited much too long.

my food leaves my plate
and I say goodbye.

Penne Rosa, I’m sorry,
I promise I will not cry.

My belly full of regrets and pasta,
I should have ordered more.

Until next time I see you again,
I will crave you, my past galore.