Since I am a little bit bigger than what I should be for my height, I would like to share a sonnet about how I possibly got this way. To start off, enjoy some music before you read. 🙂
The “Fat Man” Sonnet
At eighteen I was a buck eighteen wet.
At fifty-two, the scale screams “Get off!”
A long time in the making, please don’t fret.
Haagen-Dazs please stay away, tax write-off?
To be honest, only once a week now;
Instead of three or sometimes four or five.
Slamming them down, blowing up like a cow.
I have to slow down for sure to survive.
Never wanting to become a fat man.
I have blamed it on genes, no size fits me.
I could always blame it on the beer can.
A tan takes long, cause I’m a retiree.
I never envisioned this outcome.
But here it is, an ass like a bass drum!