Candy Corn

I'm a regular fella just your typical Joe. I've got employment and I earn good dough. I've got two kids, a lovely wife, a home I own, a normal life. I'm honest, friendly, and sincere. Except once a year.

I'm a regular fella with a 401k. I'd like March, January, June, and May. I've got my health, a fancy car. I like to golf. He wants you hard. I'm cool. It's smart and on the ball.

Except in the fall. In the fall, I'm a fellow with a curious urge. And in October, I am on the verge. There's just one thing I can't resist. I want to stop. It's on my list.

It isn't drugs, and it's not porn. It's just candy corn. Our love is candy said dog. No, I lecture my kids, and then I plead with my spouse. Do not let candy corn near this house.

But kids will beg, and kids will plead. Some candy corn is what we need. So I go buy it and it's there. I don't have a prayer. Now it's not a big deal. It's delicious and fun.

It's not that bad. And you can just have one. I rib the bag and take a whiff. It's do or die. I'm on a cliff. I make my choice. I have a taste. I am embraced.

For that is canned. A spectacular guy. I love the corn. Because it makes me fly. The corn is good. The corn is in. I feel a rush. I say, hey, orange, white, and yellow, hey.

I'm lost in a days. You're the best friend. I've just got a quit. Hello, just a regular schmuck. My life's a mess.