Some people

Start every morning

With orange juice

Freshly squeezed

With pulp

And get really crass

If they can’t

They pitch their fit

Scream a bit

Stomp a stomp

Even throw a glass

And I admit

That I dont know

How I feel about that

Cause I just don’t care

About orange juice

That much

On the one hand

The overreacter is a child

For decades in need of a belt

But on the other hand

It’s me, a tirade king

Minus the orange juice