Methuselah ate what he found on his plate,
And never as people do now
Did he note the amount of the calorie count.
He ate it because it was chow.

He wasn't disturbed as at dinner he sat
Devouring a roast or a pie,
To think it rich in saturated fat
Or a couple of vitamins shy.

He cheerfully chewed each morsel of food
Unmindful of troubles or fears
Lest his health might be hurt by some fancy dessert,
And he lived over nine-hundred years.

                      - Anonymous