Poor Daikon

Cleaning out my fridge always makes me feel rather...frivolous. There's always rotten food in there. I try to be frugal, and buy only what I'll eat, but something always gets missed. This time, it was a truly impressive daikon radish. I can't imagine how I managed to overlook something so large. And white. (Large white things being overlooked--hey, isn't that the story of my life? Oh, groan.)

SONG FOR A DIRTY, WASTEFUL PRAT (ME), AND AN ABANDONED DAIKON RADISH

This morning, at breakfast, I found on the shelf
A daikon that made me ashamed of myself:
Its root scarcely sampled, just one sliver gone,
I must have forgotten it there, and moved on.
Poor daikon, poor daikon, I got you for stew--
I couldn't be bothered, and now look at you!
You're withered and horrid, too nasty to eat.
A shade or two browner, and you'd be a beet.
Along with your corpse, which I cast in the bin,
I thought I heard handfuls of change clatter in.
I dug through the trash, to retrieve what I'd tossed:
Though you were still present, the money was lost.