by | Jul 12, 2009 | Poetry | 0 comments

I really love my Weetabix
I don’t know what I’d do
If suddenly they stopped making them
With nothing left to chew

My Mother used to give me them
For Breakfast every Day
” They’ll make you go quite regular ”
To where she wouldn’t say

They look like compressed cardboard
Made up of flaking wheat
But floating in a bowl of milk
They really look quite neat

Alone they are quite tasteless
But sugar makes them thicken
And by the time I’ve finished them
My spoon I will be licking

So don’t go under Weetabix
Because of the resession
Just keep them coming my way
You’ll always have my blessing


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