Some foreigners visit our lands
And gladly embrace our culture,
Devouring our food like vultures,
Then they return to their comfort zones,
Forgetting about the pleasant memories
They experienced at our homes,
Time passes by and an experience
Evokes a Caribbean memory,
Years later, they look down on us
Mocking our heritage,
Calling our yams, bananas, dasheen
“poor people” food,
not knowing that the mono-sodium glueterides that
they consume radiates cancer fumes,
Our heritage that they once embraced
for good times and pleasure,
Becomes subjected to ridicule and fodder,
They place no value on our Agriculture and Nutrition,
We are suddenly being mocked by people who have
Never experienced a fresh cut of venison,
“Poor People Food” is, and always will be our National Treasury,
We are proud of it,
Especially when it comes from our very own tree