I have a poem I'd like you to do for me please...
here it is
Atilla the bun wasn't that fun
He massacred food until there were none
Born from an oven, a burnt poppyseed
A terrible muffin in the battles he'd lead
His army of cakes and battalions of scones
Knocked away armies like cars and traffic cones
Atilla conquered all from France to Vancouver
A fancy resturant and the snack shop near the Louvre
He fought with great rage and amazing power
he defeated the pop tarts and the tortillas made of flour
Then one day a hand thrust down
It picked atilla off the ground
Atilla cried, "NO! this shall not be my fate"
but he was nearing the mouth at an increasing rate
The rest is not needed to be said
Atilla was eaten and was surely dead
pleeeeeeeeeeease