The boy pays the minimum amount of attention
to his main dish, and listens carefully to his pudding
But tonight, the pudding and his stomach do not
converse well, and he sighs silently.
His head hangs lower, and he supports it with
his hands, closing his weary eyes.
He does not see the girls who watch from another table
their eyes flicking that way, wondering what is wrong.
His housemates are used to his strangeness, and forget
to welcome him; ignore his engagement with the cake,
as he sits and wonders what it is all for.
Who is to say?
He thinks nobody cares, anyway.