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My Appetite
(remember that Thanksgiving feast?)
My appetite is my shepherd; I always
want.
It maketh me sit down and stuff
myself.
It leadeth me to my refrigerator
repeatedly.
It leadeth me in the path of Burger
King for a Whopper.
It destroyeth my shape.
Yea, though I knoweth I gaineth, I
will not stop eating
For the food tasteth so good.
The ice cream and the cookies, they
comfort me.
When the table is spread before me, it
exciteth me
For I knoweth that I sooneth shall dig
in.
As I filleth my plate continuously,
My clothes runneth smaller.
Surely bulges and pudgies shall follow
me all the days of my life
And I shall be "pleasingly
plump" forever.
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