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Candy Bar Blues

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I heard some large SNICKERS® from BABY RUTH®,
As the THREE MUSKETEERS® barged through the front door.
I could see they were fixing to even up the SKOR®.
They were shouting, “This ain’t no candy bar no more.”

The jukebox played a sweet SYMPHONY®, “Ramblin’ Man,” always an Allman Joy,
When the crystal chandelier, like a shooting STAR, BURST® to the floor,
And spelled out a message too big to ignore:
“This ain’t no candy bar no more.”

Eminem’s boys tried to protect him, but they threw that rapper to the floor.
MIKE AND IKE® spilled the cow juice he had poured,
Saying, “You can follow the MILKY WAY® to the door;
This ain’t no candy bar no more.”
A romantic interlude:
You should have seen TOOTSIE ROLL® with the punches, as she
Turned these TWIZZLERS® into boxed lunches – dropped them like in a BUTTERFINGER® drama.
She’s the very last RED HOT® mama.
Yet she stays GOOD AND PLENTY® humble – even when she makes VIOLET CRUMBLE®.
What do I know about her? She kisses like PEPPERMINT PATTY®,
And I’m proud to be her SUGAR DADDY®.
It’ll be a ROCKY ROAD® from her NECCO® the woods to FIFTH AVENUE®;
She’ll take it one bite at a time, this big city, BIG LEAGUE CHEW®.
Back to the brawl:
The FAST BREAK® fight reached a crescendo;
The Musketeers left behind a few meMENTOS®.
Just a BIT-O-HONEY® out of season,
A momentary lapse of RIESEN®,
A fine line TWIX® truth and treason.
WERTHER’S® smoke, there’s fire and S’MORE®;
This ain’t no candy bar no more.
Judgment Day:
Over MOUNDS® of paperwork, the judge took a stand.
He said, “I’m going to fine you all 100 GRAND®,
And put a WHATCHAMACALLIT® – a padlock – on the door;
This ain’t no candy bar no more
This ain’t no KIT KAT® Club, no MARS® bar, no CLARK® bar, no LOOK® bar;
This ain’t no candy bar no more.”
What kind of message am I sending?
It’s another OH HENRY® surprise ending.

Copyright © 2002 Lex Zaleta