darkSpyro

As a consequence of consuming pie.
When dessert comes 'round at seven o’ five,
It's likely I won't long survive.
I forgot to buy milk, and so my mouth is too dry,
To safely partake in the consumption of pie.

It may be that I will choke
And people will say “What an unfortunate bloke.
He died because he stuffed his face
Without chewing at a sensible pace.”
It may be that I'll salivate…
And swallow the pie…
And escape this fate.

God knows I should eat in moderation,
Whilst I sit here alone in my lazy chair.
It would save my family the exasperation
Of finding me dead in my underwear.
Yet there are three pies left on the coffee table,
And I’ve promised myself to eat as much as I’m able.
And though my oath may have been unwise,
I will devour all three pies.

Did you write that poem?

Sort of. I modified "I Have a Rendezvous with Death", so it's sort of a parody I guess.

original poem for comparison:

I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple-blossoms fill the air—
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.

It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath—
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.

God knows ’twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where Love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear…
But I’ve a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.

eat the pie.

do it.

I ate the pie

I didn't die

But now my rectum won't comply

I've filled it up all week on junk food

And now it's been three days since I've pooed

I really should have anticipated

That a poor diet would make me constipated.