This I don’t like when my hunger had spiked:
It’s the boredom known as porridge.
It has little taste; to eat it is a waste.
But my mom serves me porridge.

Porridge, porridge, porridge, porridge is bland and far from tasty.
Porridge, porridge, porridge, porridge will drive me breakfast-crazy.

I take a bite and then close my eyes tight.
But my taste buds say, “It’s porridge!”
She’ll make it all week,
so I’m up breakfast creek.
I’m piqued when I have to have porridge.

Porridge, porridge, porridge, porridge consistency is pasty.
Porridge, porridge, porridge, porridge consistently untasty.

Porridge, boring! Porridge, boring! Porridge, boring! Porridge, boring!