Me Adjusted to Your Taste
(This is the voice of someone I know)
When you feel that I am wrong,
I am sharp, I am strong,
See me with eyes that once misled you;
Those that deceived you decades back.
Then maybe my faults will vanish
And I’ll not seem that black.
What you see now
Is not me. It certainly is not me.
A precipitate of me it is:
Me, steamed and garnished, boiled and baked,
And then even grilled and sautéed.
It’s me adjusted to your taste.