Forgotten Ingredients

The pantry door creaks like a ghost of the past,

Dusty jars whispering meals that didn’t last.

Spices untouched, their aromas turned stale,

Each promise of nourishment fading like pale.

Half-empty containers, a story unspun,

Of dinners neglected, of battles not won.

In the shadowy corners, intentions lie deep,

While I stand here, wondering what I should keep.