My name is Robiscoe
and but for a letter,
I’d wager my en-tire life
would be better
O, for an “N” prefacing biscuit
I’d be in the chips–
& crackers…like Triskit!
It’s Queen of the cookies
–and monster I’d be,
spanking all rivals
like Keeblers, so wee
sweetly I’d serve up
my crowd pleasing nibbles,
to folks of all kinds,
(and felines—as kibble)
I’d put on the Ritz,
& glitz with no stopping,
with cake as my mix,
I’d have any topping!
and Jesus, my Cheezits
would make Sunday fair,
with milk, juice, or wine,
they’d trump any prayer,
–like yearning
for turning
the R of my name
from character defect
to fortune and fame. . .
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