My sister is made of her favorite foods:
Peanut butter and jelly;
This all came about from indulging
Her sandwich-craving belly.

She didn’t used to be this way—
She used to look alright—
Till she ate one bite too many,
Then up and changed one night.

She did not go unwarned,
As Mom would often say,
“If you keep on eating that,
You’ll turn into it one day.”

But still she didn’t listen,
And every lunch she spread
Her peanut butter and jelly
Between two hunks of bread,

Then cut it into triangles,
And set them on her plate,
And poured herself a glass of milk,
And every bite she ate.

Then one evening she looked sick.
“I don’t feel so good,” she said;
And, not desiring dinner,
She went upstairs to bed.

In the morning when I saw her
As she tottered down the stair,
Instead of being somewhat round,
She was looking rather square.

Needless to say, I was worried
When she sat at the table and cried
About how her skin was now bread
With peanuts and jelly inside.

Still, she’s adapted nicely,
And I am proud to say
That she doesn’t let the transformation
Get into her way.

She is the smartest sandwich
In our entire school,
And her delectable appearance
Makes all the fellows drool.

But she must avoid the rain
(Being soggy’s what she hates most)
And not spend much time in the sun
(In the heat she tends to toast).

The moral of the story,
As everyone might guess,
Is never eat your favorite food
In everyday excess.

~ Barbara Vance