A poetic stab at and old story where sharing is caring

One for Two

I love a good hamburger, so I hit this Fast Food place,
They put my meal together; they had recognized my face,

I was eating when an older couple, sat down next to me,
The wife took their big burger ; split it half neat as could be,

The husband began eating, but the wife didn’t take a bite,
She sat there with hands folded something surely wasn’t right,

I wondered at this custom , what it was I didn’t know,
If the wife was upset at all, it surely didn’t show,

She sat there unmoving, and never touched her food,
The husband seemed quite happy; he was in a festive mood,

Finished up his eating, said he had to wash his hands,
Then she remained there waiting, I couldn’t understand,

I said Madam please excuse me , I don’t mean to interfere,
But I can’t help but wonder, what is the custom here,

You have been so patient, I don’t mean to be so bold,
Is this a religious custom , or just like your burger cold,

She said, No but he must clean them, topside and beneath,
I don’t like my burger cooling, I’m just waiting for the teeth!