Omelet Part Deux

Ode to an Omelet

How do I loathe thee? Let me count the ways.
I loathe thee morning, noon, and night
Yet my stomach grumbles at your sight
For you taste so warm and good.
I can not seem to make you right
You always break, run, and fight.
I loathe thee dearly sure it's true;
I loathe thee when you taste like poo,
I loathe your ingredients - eggs, milk too;

Salt and pepper - when the cheeses ooze.

I loathe thee with a sense of grief
I loathe thee because you forsake me
You take the wind out of my sails,
Yet one day I will prevail,
Just you wait and see.