OK I promise I will diet
but look at that word closely
it reads DIE they just added another T
Now think about that for a moment
if dieting is supposed to be good
then why do I feel like dying
if I can't get my hands on some food?
My tummy begins to rubble
My head begins to throb
My mind says I must not grumble
but I stuff food in my gob
Anything’s better than starving
maybe a really small bite
there's a cheesecake in the pantry
left over from last night
Fluffy delicious creamy deserts
from MacDonald's dessert bar.
So much nicer than salad
no matter how skinny you are
So yes I
I'll try to lose some weight
if it really matters to you
but give me a moment to plan my meals
with that cream puff to see me through
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem