Sunday’s at Chick-fil-A

Depression comes to mind in this parking lot,
The time is nearly eight o’clock,
Skies are clear and climate’s right;
Everything’s in place for a perfect day,
But seriously man, what the truck…

This ache is one I can’t afford,
But it’s all for the sake of the gracious Lord.
No one is preparing the nuggets,
No waffle fries, no sandwiches, no nothing,
For years on this day, my stomach roared.

The appetite craves for one place,
Being here, the place before my eyes.
But I turn on the ignition, put the car in gear,
Drive off and see Chick-fi-A in the rear
And use the mirror to wipe tears from my face.

The wait for Monday is not too long,
Only 24 hours to go
Till the doors reopen for patrons
And I can join in the feast.
Sadly, by then the craving will be gone😢

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