Waste not. Want not: leftovers

This poem is being written in stages to highlight the things I do toward frugal living.

Leftovers are my jam.
From me, they do not scram.

I freeze you to eat you for lunch.
Which helps my overall finances a bunch.

Someday I’d like to retire.
I’m sick of this mire.

Waste not. Want not.

Growing up; my daily life was filled with the saying, “waste not, want not.”

When you’re young, what clue do you have in lives dot?

As we grow; we learn, “money doesn’t grow on trees.”

I save the salt from chocolate squeeze.

To my stew you are added.

Flavor has been padded.

Aw sheet!

Blasted hole. This is not a treat.

I’m gonna fix you. I guarantee.

From my needle you need to flee.

More time will be added to your life. Around you I shall mend.

So more dream filled nights, you can tend.

Coffee. Nectar of God. You help me through another day.

Upright and functional, you help me stay.

What about your grounds?

A use for you, I have found.

Nutrients to the soil you will add.

Helping my veggies grow big and strong. Which will make me very glad.

Leftovers are my jam.

From me, they do not scram.

I freeze you to eat you for lunch.

Which helps my overall finances a bunch.

Someday I’d like to retire.

I’m sick of this mire.

Published by Chico’s Mom

Thanks for visiting. My blog has lots of different styles: drawing, painting, photography, stories and poetry.

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