A humble peanut lies in the ground

Secure from anger, danger, and sound

The peanut knows not from where it came

Only to grow, exist, and to stay in his game

 

Then just when his world was perfect it seemed

Along came a giant green peanut machine

It dug up the root, and killed the legume

And brought upon peanut, his ultimate doom

 

Alas, that poor peanut was never the same

As he dried in the sun, it drove him insane

He turned inside out, and about in his shell

And thus, met his end on a grocery store shelf

 

You see, this poor peanut was a victim of you

The wealthy consumer with a big taste for food

Our friend here was mashed and beaten for butter

All so that you could have him with your supper

 

So, in the poor peanut’s interests here we convene

To resolve a problem that I have seen

How can we save him from your hunger and wrath

And spare him the doom of your peanut attack

 

I say it’s quite funny, how you doubtless now pity

A lifeless old peanut, with no lively feeling

Yes, the peanut I spoke of has never lived

Except in your mind, where poetry is