'From formative tastes – I was barely two –
How I deplored you, foul cousin of jam!
You're not even real food, I'm on to your scam!
You're nowt but the waste left after beer's brewed!
Claim that it's healthy? I'm going to sue!
Alleging it's harmless! O! What a sham!
I'd rather give head to Jean Claude Van Damme
Than eat up that muck. Force me and I'll spew!
I hear that it's made from extract of yeast,
And also from tears that lost children cry.
If you leave the lid off, out crawls a beast.
We've got to destroy it! At least we should try!'
To the market he stormed under cover of night.
Found in aisle six the next day: death by Marmite.