Lo! what a life for you, little bean,
Left upon the plate otherwise so empty.
You are so round and your juices so sweet,
And yet your master let you not enter his lips.
Wherefore did such a thing occur, little bean?
Was your master in a rush for a 9am class?
Or were you too much effort to be scooped up alone?
Only he knows, my dear bean; alas we do not.
Whither now will you wander, little bean?
Will you end up mixed among the fresh beans, reheated for tomorrow?
Oh no! The thought is too much to bear –
Would that they not mock you for being so abandoned.
I pray for you, little bean, that wherever you end up,
In this life or the next:
You will swift be eaten by the man who paid 35p for the privilege.