Wishful Shrinking Poem by Frederick Nellist

Conscience condemns my increasing spread
A fork lift shifts me out of bed
My silhouette offends my gaze
Some doors I enter walking sideways.

My misgivings perhaps a trifle magnified
As daily my weight attacks the scale
To be quite honest I'm terrified
The readings are rising beyond the pale.

I'll turn my back on home made pale ale
The very thought turning my face pale
Fatty food and cakes to be banished
Until my spare tyre has finally vanished.

Bacon breakfast never again to be seen
I'll chew all day on a celery stick
Perhaps some toast with margarine
My ample outline won't disappear quick.

Maybe another way, it's called exercise
Very hard going I won't win first prize
I'll start the day with some skipping
I'll really miss my bread and dripping.