Ice Cream

I SCREAM

I scream if I’m dipped in sprinkles,

I scream if I’m shoved in a cone,

I scream if I’m left on the worktop

or in a cold freezer, alone.

I scream if I’m squashed between wafers,

or left to melt in a dish.

I scream if they call me ‘cookie dough’

or describe me as food for ‘phish’

I scream if I’m covered in raspberry sauce,

or smothered with horrid, crushed nuts.

I scream if I’m dropped on the pavement,

and swept up with the cigarette butts.

I scream if I’m cooked in the oven,

and announced as a ‘Baked Alaska.’

I scream very loudly when gulped down by kids,

who have been told ‘You must eat that faster!’

I scream when they call me a ‘Choc -Ice’

or   ‘Cornetto ‘ (I am not from Italy!)

I scream if I’m plonked on fruit crumble,

and feel that I must complain bitterly.

I scream for the fun of it really

my life can be so short you see,

and if I didn’t scream as much as I do,

then no-one would notice me!