So, is this becoming a habit?  I wrote a poem about the last blog.  I seem to like doing this.  The poems turn out to more describe what i was trying to say in the blog.  maybe cause the poem, I actually sit down and think about what I want to say instead of just blurting it out.  Oh well, here it is...I pray and hope you enjoy.

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I eat in the morning when I wake up. 

I eat at night before I go to bed. 

I am the only person I know that eats WHILE I’m sleeping. 

It's hard, but I manage to do it every night. 

And I know this sounds like another "eating" poem. 

It is not like I don't have a million of those.

I am the pimp and fat poems are my hoes.

I use them and recite them until they get old and retire   

Then, I just write another one.

I cant’ stop until this habit is done

 

So, this piece is entitled "I EAT'.  Cause I do.

I eat whenever, however and whomever.  Yes, I will even eat you.  I would eat humans for lunch doggone it,

if they sold it at McDonald's or Burger King 

I am a eataholic. I can’t stop this thing.

Crying out for help through words on paper   

Writing poems about this pain is the only thing keeping me sane,

during the rain and the 20 pounds gained

and the binges at the donut shop.

I laugh to myself to keep from crying to myself…

I think about dying myself. 

I wish the hunger in me would breathe its last breath.

Write poems about it and everyone laughs about it,

And through all the confusion, and for three minutes of fame,

I forget that this is real and that it is not just another poem.

It’s another plea for help and a break from the norm

Of fast foods and slow sweets that stay in my system for weeks

It’s the times when I am not hungry

but I still stop and get something to eat

No, this is NOT just another funny eating poem

They have become more than that.

 

They have become my doctor that tells me that

if I keep gaining weight, I’ll have a heart attack

before the age my dad did.

They are my health crazed brother that scowls

everytime I don’t eat something organic.

My poems have become my daughter

running around the house and me being too tired to chase her.

They are the basketball hoop and the weight set I bought

And hardly ever use.

They are the one hour I have spent at 24 hour fitness.

They are the joke and they are on me

Behind that there is really nothing funny about it

Yet, don’t feel bad if you don’t know and you chuckle

Along with all the rest of us.  Pain is hilarious sometimes.

I laugh so hard that it hurts sometimes.

These poems are my reminders of the struggle sometimes 

And I pray that one day I can look back and giggle at  my own rhymes.

But for now, I will keep masking the charade with

 funny fat eating tales,

until all the cows come home,

or until I can control this addiction.

and write that concluding victory poem.  

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