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Fast Food

Together two words so ironic

A concept that has proved moronic

For nothing ever comes that’s good

From that which we now call “Fast Food”

It’s quite the stretch to call it food

Implies that it is what we should

Consume to nourish bod and soul

But only if quick death’s our goal

Prepared and served up oh so quickly

But after eating we feel sickly

But so addicted we’ve become

Yet if we knew where it came from

The factory and frozen bins

The boxes, bags and metal tins

We’d cover up our mouths and run

Instead this war has long been won

And the loser is our arteries

In pursuit of eating food with ease

And yet, in spite, why dare complain?

When in line I will stand again

Acknowledging I’ve lost the fight

By savouring each guilty bite…

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