I Resolve to Diet
Each year I try, each year I fail and yet I go through it again.
My goal: to resemble a skinny rail;
my success rate: zero for ten.
The mirror reflects reality and it's as I feared ... No! More so!
The result of human frailty
is pounds packed onto my torso.
I'll start again, this time I vow to lose each shameful pound
I'll be svelte and reedy and thin (and how!)
when next New Year comes around.
But dinner calls, potatoes and ham resistance is tough; I partake.
After all I am who I am.
Am I defined by my weight?
Oh, well, at least it's nice to dream, as my plans go up in smoke,
of chocolate mousse and custard cream
washed down with Diet Coke.
© Ellie Maziekien1/04/2001
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