Sooooeeee, Sooooeeee! Its feeding time.
Digest these orbs of nacreous matter,
Ignore the fool who made them rhyme.

Don't push, don't shove, don't block the trough
word choices forced are mindless patter
that meekly earn, your right to scoff.

Cram down, gulp quick, subdue their shine
each gem will hardly tint your taste
if they are first dissolved in whine.

Porcines decry my rhyme unsung
its wisdom missed as banal waste,
their music mute, sad bells not rung.

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