A poem about chicken tenders
For upon |A poem about chicken tenders
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Gimme gimme chicken tendies,
Be they crispy or from Wendys.
Spend my hard-earned good-boy points,
on Kid’s Meal ball pit burger joints.
Mummy lifts me to the car,
To find me tending near and far.
Enjoy my tasty tender treats,
in comfy big boy booster seats.
McDonald’s, Hardee’s, Popeye’s, Cane’s,
But of my Tendies, none remains.She tries to make me take a nappy,
But sleeping doesn’t make me happy.
Tenders are the only food,
That puts me in the napping mood.
I’ll scream and shout and make a fuss,
I’ll scratch, I’ll bite, I’ll even cuss!
Tenders are my heart’s desire,
Fueled by raging, hungry fire.
Mummy sobs and wails and cries,
But tears aren’t tending, nugs or fries.
Be they crispy or from Wendys.
Spend my hard-earned good-boy points,
on Kid’s Meal ball pit burger joints.
Mummy lifts me to the car,
To find me tending near and far.
Enjoy my tasty tender treats,
in comfy big boy booster seats.
McDonald’s, Hardee’s, Popeye’s, Cane’s,
But of my Tendies, none remains.She tries to make me take a nappy,
But sleeping doesn’t make me happy.
Tenders are the only food,
That puts me in the napping mood.
I’ll scream and shout and make a fuss,
I’ll scratch, I’ll bite, I’ll even cuss!
Tenders are my heart’s desire,
Fueled by raging, hungry fire.
Mummy sobs and wails and cries,
But tears aren’t tending, nugs or fries.
My good-boy points were fairly earned,
To buy the trendiest that I’ve yearned.
But there are no Tenders on my plate!
Did mummy think that I’d just eaten?
“TENDIES TENDIES GET THEM NOW,
YOU FAT, UNGRATEFUL, SLUGGISH SOW!”
I screech while hurling into her eyes,
My foul-smell bowel-dwelling diaper surprise.
For she who is un-popped on is she who remembers:
Never forget my chicken tenders.
The article was originally published here.
Chicken Tendies Poem
Gimme gimme Chicken Tendies.
Be they crispy, or from Wendy’s.
Spend my hard-earned Good Boy Points,
on kid’s meals, ball pit, burger joints.
Mummy lifts me to the car,
to find me tending near and far.
Enjoy my tasty tender treats,
in comfy big boy booster seats.
Mcdonald’s, Hardee’s, Popeye’s, Cane’s,
But of my tendencies, none remains.
She tries to make me take a nappy,
but sleeping doesn’t make me happy.
Tenders are the only food,
that puts me in the napping mood.
I’ll scream, I’ll shout, I’ll make a fuss.
I’ll scratch, I’ll bite, I’ll even cuss!
Tenders are my heart’s desire,
fueled by raging, hungry fire!
Mummy sobs and wails and cries,
but tears aren’t tending, nuggets or fries.
My Good Boy Points are fairly earned,
to buy the trendiest that I’ve yearned.
But there are no Tenders on my plate.
Did Mummy think that I’d just eaten?
Tendies, Tendies, get them NOW!
YOU FAT, UNGRATEFUL, SLUGGISH SOW!
REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
The article was originally published here.
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