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Bring on the broccoli. I'll give it a try.
But if you make me eat carrots, I think I will die.
I'll help you with dinner if that's what you wish.
I'm sure I can whip up an alternate dish.
I'll make cheese with pickles mashed up on the side.
But if you make me eat carrots, I think I will die.
I eat all my pasta in one big ol slurp.
I finish my meatballs before my dessert.

I even lick butter clean off my rye bread.
And still not one drop spills on top of my head.
I eat really well. I'll be neat by and by.
But if you make me eat carrots, I think I will die.
I love juicy berries with whipped cream on top.
I also love peas in their little pea pods.
I eat all my string beans and sometimes my corn.
I gobble up melons outside when it's warm.
I swoosh mashed potatoes inside both my cheeks.
I love red tomatoes each day of the week.
I drink BLAH-BLANK milk which splashes my eyes.
But if you make me eat carrots, I think I will die.
It's not that I'm stubborn or childish or rude.
I really am grateful for wonderful food.
You are quite the looker, and your cooking is great!
I'm holding my breath while you deliberate.
Just think how you'd feel if I keeled over dead.
My face having swollen outside of my head.
There'd be nothing left but huge hands and puffed feet.
And remnants of carrots in gaps of my teeth.
I can't see you sad. I don't want you to cry.
But if you make me eat carrots, I think I will die.
I know you're now thinking that this is a ploy.
An exaggeration or clever decoy.
I assure you my purpose is noble and true.
My utmost concern, as always, is you.
The shame and the guilt would be too much to bear.
Should I die upon eating the food you've prepared.
Instead, dice zucchinis sealed up in pot pie.
But if you make me eat carrots, I think I will die.
Re-shelf all those knives and that measuring stuff.
You look like your day has been rather rough.
Draw up a warm bath with bubbles and flowers.
I believe I may have a few toys you can borrow.
Let's order some food. I prefer something fried.
But if you make me eat carrots, I think I will die.
I don't think you've heard one mere word I have uttered.
We need him to translate, so bring in my big brother.
He'll tell you the facts because he's a smart guy.
But if you make me eat carrots, I think I will die.
Alas, you don't hear me. This must be GOODBYE!
Cause if you make me eat carrots, I'm sure I will die.

Learn more about this author, L. Dinkens Stewart.
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