I’m having beets for breakfast
Though some might think it weird
They’re earthy and delicious
And they’ll maybe stain my beard
I’m having beets for breakfast
Pickled, roasted, or just raw
Much better than granola
They’re the best you ever saw
I’m having beets for breakfast
They fortify my spleen
Who cares if my kitchen counter
Looks like a murder scene
Move over, Cheerios and Lucky Charms
When I eat them beets, them lovely beets
I cannot come to harm
I’m having beets for breakfast
Deep purple, they are dyed
And when I go to drop a deuce
I might be horrified
Thursday, October 26, 2017
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2 comments:
I love beets too. And the next day I am a little horrified because I often forget that I was eating beets the day before.
Not a big fan of beets - they're just too purple for my liking.
Like your poem though. It made me smile.
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