Spoiled Food Poem by Tyrone Gayle

Blueberry crackers still trying to see our canines and stop us from eating bread,
Strange, I cut my cheese properly yet a bloody finger still can cause me to be dead,
System is twisted, you can die, I bet it because they got a glock of oreos,
A permit for perpetuating pain causing me to be a chicken with a mind that has a flock of orioles.

2 Decades Avenue is at the corner, can I reach beyond to bring home the bacon?
I'm talking to the pigs going hams, feigning to meet me like Akon,
I swear my skin itches when black beings are discarded like diaper dookie,
This trick and treat has some oblivious chips but it is the same viper cookie.

Someone may cry I miss my honey if I go certain places the milk man goes,
It's as if they see misplaced orange utensils and then say, 'Let's hang those'
I admit we got some bad apples, but that does not mean, we got a bad bunch!
Reversely, not all of you are raised in a unit of hate that eats chocolate for lunch.

This hot potato burns, I'm foreign to this place yet I am so far in disgrace with the eagle,
It is sad, jelly has to be spilled for us to remember that there is a hole in the bagel,
Things aren't peach still we should be appreciative of the times like our born days,
But don't celebrate too much, for the icing hides the fact that in the cake a thorn lays,

It's more bananas, the fingers controlling the oven are not even the lovers of donuts,
They are above the salt yet they are getting sugar from below with no pity and no buts,
Tum! Tum! It seems they cannot do it for toffee even when an ebony door shuts,
Hmn, seeing the black seeds not bearing fruits makes me bitter until my core cuts.