There really is too much of me,
There are pieces there that should not be.
There are rolls and folds and hanging breasts.
I certainly fail those old ‘pinch tests’.
There are wrinkles, freckles and laughter lines.
I can’t deny those aging signs -
With bits that wobble, and parts that sag.
I’m turning into a Hessian bag.
Where’s the girl that once was me?
Unzip this sack and set her free!
By Liz Wilks (1998)
I'm happy for this poem to be reproduced as long as you acknowledge the source.
Cross-posted here:
ReplyDeletehttp://retrainyourbraintohappiness.blogspot.com/2012/01/happy-and-sadthe-dieters-lament.html