The toaster’s wheat intolerant,
The butter frets about middle aged spread,
The bread is having a nervous breakdown
And can’t stand but crumbles instead.
The knife is courting anaemia
And the jam might be diabetic.
The marmalade has a citrus allergy
And is so weak, it feels pathetic.
The toaster fears the bread,
The butter has anger issues,
The knife fears it’s soon to be dead,
And the jam suffers insomnia.
While the plate carries the load
And says: “There’s nowt wrong wi’ ya!”