There’s a man I knew that ate Malteesers in bed,

They are a wonderful tasty treat to be fed,

He ate those treats one by one all the night through,

A side effect of those treats is a shake or two,

A substitute but not as good is a wax coated Malt ball,

The wax protects from the heat but can make it fall,

Malteesers are pure of chocolate and melts right away,

That’s what makes them so good in your mouth to play,

But those wax coated subs just aren’t the same but will do,

The Malteeser is from Europe so ship me a box or two,

I toss them in but soon the whole box is gone leaving me blue,

So now I munch on Malt Balls and I break a tooth or two,

I worry how many little male malts are walking without balls,

I’m filled with guilt, tears fill my eyes and a few of the balls falls,

Morning brings farts that started at midnight and coat the room,

To wake to such a smell can wake a man into gloom,

I drag myself to the restroom to release what I packed away,

As I return to make my bed I find a morning treat for the day,

There in the bed is a couple of the balls of malt,

I tossed them into my mouth before my hands could halt,

The sniff I caught flying through the air said loudly beware,

The moral of this tale, of this story of balls found anywhere,

Check the texture but most off all think of what once laid there,

For once you’ve tasted s**t, I assure you, you will care.

The end