My Friend George

George Foreman is a friend of mine, Of many times we chill. Times together that we dine, But not the man that you assign, For George, he is a grill. Of grills, he is the number one, Which helps make meals a-gorge. Or for a little bit more fun, You can get the 5 in 1, Of my friend, we call the George. A waffle or a steak, A burger or a weiner, Sure there’s no mistake, Whatever is you make, It makes a little leaner. For as it starts to cook, The grease comes rolling down. It forms a little brook, The trap, it gives a look, A pond of greasy brown. Surely one can never doubt, The bond that we did forge, A partnership of greatest clout, Winning meals at every bout, Just me and my friend George.