The Lunch Lady, a Pantoum
Remember the lunch lady?
What was her story? We didn’t care.
Why she singled us out was anyone’s guess.
She always forced us to eat our sandwiches.
What was her story? We didn’t care.
She was just the lunch lady;
the one who forced us to eat our sandwiches.
I can still see her reaching into the trash.
We just called her the lunch lady.
If you didn’t finish your sandwich, she fished it out.
I can still see her reaching into the trash.
She always said, Someone would die for this!
When we didn’t finish, she fished it out,
and set it before us like a Christmas present.
She always said, Someone would die for this!
And we laughed at her cryptic voice, her wobbly chin.
She set it before us like a Christmas present.
Why she singled us out was anyone’s guess.
We just laughed at her cryptic voice, her wobbly chin.
When she was hit by a bus, no one cried.
Why she singled us out was anyone’s guess.
She must have known we didn’t get it.
When she was hit by a bus, no one cried.
She never saw it rounding the corner.
She must have known we wouldn’t get it.
Sorrow stops at every house.
She never saw it rounding the corner.
It wasn’t a lesson we wanted to learn.
Sorrow stops at every house.
Why it singles you out is anyone’s guess.
Sooner or later, we all learned.
Remember the lunch lady.