My Opinion on Breakfast…

13 Aug

Breakfast, a Poem

In the morning, when the music sounds

I get out of bed with leaps and bounds

Up into the kitchen I go,

I reach for the pantry door, then… no

This is not what I do

I hate breakfast, how about you?

I don’t like cereal, of coarse not,

Nor anything else that cooks in a pot.

I hate getting up early, each and every day

I hate eating breakfast, in my own way.

The cereal’s dry, the toast is too brown,

The pancakes are flat, and the fruit tastes like down.

The juice gets spilled, the milk is bad,

The coffee is black, and then I get mad.

What is there to eat, tell me now!

I hate breakfast, but I don’t know how.

Maybe if I tried to think better,

Then my cereal will be wetter.

The toast will be fine; the fruit will be too,

The juice in the jar, the milk will be new.

Maybe I won’t mind it, it’ll taste good,

Maybe I just felt like I wasn’t understood.

I like breakfast, hip-hip-hooray!

Now to like lunch, I’ll write another day.


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