B-R-U-S-S-E-L S-P-R-O-U-T-S
They are so gross, taste like card board plants, and, well, you get my point. I don't like them. Here is a poem I wrote for the brussel sprouts.
Blah!
Blah!
Brussel sprouts in the house!
I'd rather eat a mouse!
Alarm!
Alarm!
I'm headed for fate!
They're on the plate!
Close my eyes,
They're not a prize!
I hope I don't have to eat them!
Maybe my mother will heat them.
AND THEY"LL MELT!!!!
You don't have to agree, but I think they taste gross.
No comments:
Post a Comment