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Poem

What is it about women
That makes them think their role
Is to deprive their starving husbands
Of the food that feeds their soul

So I’m a few pounds overweight
Really, that’s no big deal
I want to eat the food I like
It’s how it makes me feel

She says that fruit is good for me
Takes pains to tell me why
Well breakfast’s an important meal
So I have apple pie

She’s always pushing food at me
Like vegetables and nuts
So I oblige reluctantly
With two or three doughnuts

What is the problem I protest
I’m doing what you ask
Just change how you prepare them
That’s not too hard a task

It matters not, I always say
If I don't do what I'm told
I won't live much longer anyway
I'm already pretty old

They keep on persisting
Like they could not care less
About us poor men's wishes  
And disregard our happiness

It’s degrading when I have to sneak
Into the Cookie jar 
She’s guarding o’er the candy dish
I have to steal a chocolate bar

It’s bad for me she tells me
It’ll cause all kinds of ills
I say that's impossible
’Cause I’m taking all these pills

I’ve finally caved, I’ve given in
So my health I do not botch
So I’ll just sit here brooding
And finish my bottle of scotch

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