The Empty Cooking Pot

By E. O., 2nd Year

Object No. 81 Empty cooking pot, nineteenth century
National Museum of Ireland - Country Life

The cooking pot sits on the stove,
Grayish potatoes produce a rotting stench.
The cottage is quiet,
The silence broken only by a cough.
A wheeze.
The room is stuffy.
Filled with disease.

There was a time
When the house was filled with music and laughter.
A time when our stomachs were
And so were our hearts.
But then the blight came
And never again
Were we the same.

We are not starving.
The hunger has passed.
All we feel is emptiness.
We are hollow,
Slowly wasting away.
Just like the cooking pot.

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