If I were a fork, I think that I would be,

A forward fork and a fork that would,

Bluntly tell you that you should,

Eat with your fingers instead,

Because you know all forks dread,

The dishwasher—it’s so fear provoking!

If I were a fork I’d rather be choking

Than to endure an hour in there!

And the silent plates they take it and stare,

And none of the dishes protest,

They would never say they detest,

And they tremble and quake at the thought,

Of asking the humans to not eat with utensils,

But then they would probably use the pencils,

And they have their own issues,

And so do the tissues,

But they never congregate,

(I believe they think it’s too late)

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