A poet’s find

I’m searching for some metaphors and stumble on a scene

Where someone left a paper bag on grass that’s very green.

And in the bag’s a sandwich and a cookie and some punch,

So really what we’re dealing with is someone’s yummy lunch.

And was it just forgotten or is it a thoughtful gift

And can you trust the safety when the cost was very thrift.

And what should all the meaning be and what is symbolized

And how can I make sure this poem is quickly liked and prized.

Well maybe while I’m thinking I will eat this lunch that’s free

And guess that someone somewhere must have surely thought of me

But will the poem just disappear when I no longer dine

And someone comes to yell at me and says hey that was mine.

But I’m in charge of how this goes so maybe they were wrong.

And there’s a table full of lunches, then we sing a song.

Well that is nice and life makes sense but some things just aren’t free.

So 50 trillion dollars is the total you owe me.