Sugar Trap

Banana Cream Pie (photo courtesy M.H.C.)

I'll pay you a dollar to build me a palace,

And fifty cents more if you build without malice;

Its walls crispy brownie, its window frames cream,
The couches are fondant in layers that gleam
With marshmallow cushions of various shapes;
And don't forget drapes cut from strawberry crepes,

And when I have run out of candy to eat,
Returns it the favor with practiced deceit,
As each of my organs it slowly consumes;
I am now its palace with hundreds of rooms.

A dollar and fifty has bought me disease,
And now I'll pay thousands in hospital fees.