Cookie, cookie go away,
No, I do not want to play.
I am tired from my eight mile run,
And your chewy carmel does not look like fun.
There you sit, all smug in the jar,
Mocking my weakness from afar.
For I am known to sneak you for a breakfast delight,
Or maybe take comfort in the dark of the night.
But alas, no more - I will not submit!
Your tauting is no match for my strength and my wit/
So in the garbage you shall go,
And I won't have to taste your evil deliciousness no mo'.
Pssst....hey cookie - you, me, the coffee machine, 7am - see ya there.