He skipped and he hopped.
He popped and he locked.
He danced with his feet,
to Mcdonalds' fast beat.
He puffed up with pride;
warm in the inside.
And fresh with his lettuce;
junk food is his fetish.
He never thought what would come;
he thought it was all fun.
In a funky yellow wrapper
and into the warmer he went.
He heard the kaching of the cashier--
someone's money was spent.
He was dragged to the front line
where the lights were all bright.
Like he was sent in for interrogation;
Like in a murderer's plight.
And like that he went.
A tear from his bread skin:
the top of his sesame seed bun head
human teeth sank in.
He yelled and he screamed
with all that he got.
He thought he was happy.
But he's everything he's not.