My salad sits pouting, for I want a pie,
and the water I've poured has a tear in its eye.
I don't care what they think for I'm itching to go
to my neighborhood bakery - it's hard to say no.
My carrots and spinach are wilting away
and my fish oil pills have got something to say: Don't leave us! Come back here and put down that dough!
I ignore them. It's easy! The baker's my beau.
My bran wants to kill me. My kale is so mad...
I know what they are, though - a fool and a fad.
I'll stick with the decadent foods that I know;
with a handful of Cheetos, I gulp my Bordeaux.
My garbage is full of the things I should eat.
I'm taking them all out the door, down the street.
I'm tired of fighting them! Out they must go!
When junk food comes calling, It's hard to say no.
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