My time of starvation and yearning hunger,
Called for something of pure enjoyment,
It’s an emptiness not understood by the younger.
So with ample time from unemployment,
A feast was enlisted to create the day.
Called upon were a Dagwood and an ale,
With ham, provolone, turkey, bread and greens.
Soon I will pounce, as if it were pray.
I must eat it all, I cannot (will not) fail,
This sandwich I will rise above and prevail,
For soon enough I will feel tightness of my jeans.
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