Putrid Parsley

Parsley is as parsley does
Parsley IS a disgusting fuzz
It is you I will commiserate
If you find parsley on on your dinner plate
Few eat it. It's mainly just for looks
I hate it. I never use it when I cook
But that's just me. You might like the taste
Parsley presents its bitter face
It may leave you with fresh breath
But I wouldn't eat some to save me from my death
Yuch! Euw. Sick!
What a horrid little green stick!
I'd rather it a head of Garlic than be caught eating this Petroselinum crispum herb
If I could, I would, I'd rip out all the parsley from the earth and kick it to the curb
Okay, maybe I'm being a tad bit melodramatic
but I ate it once and it left me rheumatic
And that's no fun my friend
Rheumatism can kill you in the end
That's why at all costs I avoid eating this gidgey garnish
I hope that this poem has left parsley's name tarnished
If it has, then I have succeeded
Mark my words. I will never again eat it.
YEWCH!