Ode to an Empty Bowl

Yo—hold up. Nah. This ain’t real.
I swear there was food here. A whole-ass meal.
I roll up slow, give the bowl a nudge,
Nothing moves. Nothing budged.

Did I eat? Can’t be true.
Stomach’s talkin’, sayin’ who?
Sayin’ what? Sayin’ where’s my snack?
All I see is the bottom—shiny, black.

Step back. Assess. This some kind of trick?
I swear these humans move too quick.
One blink, one stretch, one shake of my fur—
And boom. My dinner? A forgotten blur.

But hold up—wait—I see a clue.
A crumb in the corner. Smells like… chew.
Did I eat? Did I smash? Did I clean my plate?
Guess I’ll never know. But it’s gettin’ late.

So I drop my eyes, put on my best,
That I ain’t never been fed distress.
They sigh. They laugh. They point at the clock.
But I stay hungry. The hustle don’t stop.