Peanut Butter Cup
I think Jack wants me fat.
In fact I am sure of that.
I always ask for one scoop.
Waistlines expand with that gloop.
He insists on giving three.
All for the same fee.
Poor, poor pitiful me.
I can't resist you see.
Peanut Butter Cup counter.
The place where I always flounder.
Copyright © Jean Murray | Year Posted 2017
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