Oh No! Here I am, failing the year once again.
What mixed signals is my mind trying to send?
I really was not expecting to write a heavy part eight.
I guess I'll just have to whine of all the pastas I ate...
What a wavering mass I must carry, holding me back
All the overeating leaves me sluggish and out of whack
On the contrary, my fatness is lying to me again
Blaming pastas, for they really are a healthy trend
I'd sneak in THE Burger only to slurp it down with some beer,
indulging my moment with a smile hoping nobody can hear
My eyes wander as I scarf it down only to pause and chuckle
As the holidays fade, I save the family from the lonely truffles
What a Swamper I've become with veins of slime
Withering my life away one metric ton at a time
My days seem to come and go as I breathe my way to the kitchen
Plenty of support visits me throughout, though chosing not to listen
Days and nights fly just as fast as the food in my hands
Wheezing and wondering how far I am going to expand
I quietly smile at the severity of my situation disrespectfully
but...
One of these days, the 'silent' joke is going to be on me...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem