My benevolence apparent
my sins transparent
I was was The One in line
for the highest utmost
ordination divine
Yes, many thought I was it
Halo and all, I'm the shit
Time for all to know my good
time for my deserved sainthood
Interviewed I was and put thru the ringer
they wanted to know if I had a stinger
Hidden 'issues' better now exposed
So as to not later be quietly deposed
I'm so holy and without blemish
luck to them to find a fetish
I talk to animals and heal the hurting
I tow the line, never a bit skirting
But alas came a question from the left,
cold-cocked me good, left me bereft
Do you ever eat more than you should?
Could I lie (once) and still be good?
I said 'Define 'should' and more '
Do you ever pig out, a real food whore?
At that point, I knew I was sunk
I was a ghastly closet Cheetos punk
One last chance I did take,
I asked how many ounces that would make?
The Holy Supreme Board set me straight
'Canon dictates 6 ounces to make'
GLUTTONY!
Glutton I was named, those damn Cheetos
were to blame
All those bags down in the dumpster deep
Someone crawled in, a competitor creep!
So I am here sullen today,
not a thing to really say
I ate those Cheetos, I pounded them good
they cost my holiness, my anointed sainthood!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Cheetos are also the cause of your deadly sin(if you think) . We need two hands to clap.You aren't dead, you aren't saint/ Cheetos allure you that's the fate.(joking) .A fabulous allegory..