The Otis-Spunkmeyer Experience

It had been a rather long and tiring week, and I woke up Friday morning slowly and sleepily: "I would say 'hello', Day, but I don't really feel too inclined towards salutations at the moment." (That was me almost greeting the morning). I felt it was going to be an uneventful day.
Breakfast changed my mind.
I dropped by a food place and picked up a wild blueberry Otis-Spunkmeyer muffin. Sitting myself down, I embarked on munching the pleasant, mushy breading of the meager meal. After a few bites, I noticed something rather hard (and not entirely chewable) between my teeth. I thought perhaps it was one of those yucky nut-pieces or hard-breading that they sometimes throw into the mix (often to my chagrin...I like that word..."chagrin"...good word). Though I was trying to swallow it, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. In chewing the piece of whatever-it-was, it wasn't getting any smaller. So I spit it out. I then examined my muffin to see what they had put inside. There, in the center, was a large, brown spot from which had come that ugly texture I had tried to chew. I pulled the spot out of the heart of my muffin and looked closely at it. I picked at its surface, and it peeled apart in two layers. Where it had been joined in the middle, its ridges looked to me a great deal like those found in cardboard. "It couldn't be," I mused.
I turned it over and examined the blueberry stains on one side. Wait. Those weren't blueberry stains. I scraped off the muffin residue which clung to the surface, and there the letters "of Jun" met my eyes.
There was a piece of cardboard in my muffin.
I chuckled to myself at the incident, set the muffin aside (naturally, I was finished), and wrote this poem with a better, more humorous outlook on the day's new potential.

The Otis-Spunkmeyer Experience

The week had worn me winded, puffin';
With waking I bought a simple muffin:
Otis-Spunkmeyer wild blueberry,
While I spent the mornin' a-sluffin'.

Made of bread and fruit and dairy,
I took three bites, and quite contrarily,
There my mouth found something horrid:
A piece of cardboard hard: scary!

Though it was something I had afforded,
It left me dazed from its texture sordid.
What could steal a muffin's pride?
A nasty piece of cardboard did.

It had the words "of Jun" inscribed
Upon is tasteless, chewless side,
And my breakfast then had found its end--
Eating cardboard, I can't abide.