When I was a kid, my soup was just right,
Yummy and tasty, a veritable delight.
Two cups of dreams and a full pint of play,
A pinch of curiosity for the perfect bouquet.
Passion and wonder and faith it had too,
I’d dare you to taste a happier stew!
But when I got older, my soup it did turn,
Enough to warrant a cause for concern.
It’s gunky and goopy and lacking in fun,
It’s not nearly as tasty as when I’d begun.
It’s bland and it’s bitter and tastes just like poop,
The problem is clearly the adult in my soup!
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