The following poem from a book that I self published tells my whole story:
Food:
“Ah, what happened to the girl who used to be,
Who would eat 8 cookies with her tea?
The honey buns sit stale and dry,
The crust now gets soggy under your pie.
A pound of steak was just your style,
Now your plate with food, you never pile.
Leftover spaghetti was your favorite brunch,
Now your children pack it for their lunch.
Your romance with us is a thing of the past,
How could a person change so fast?"
Dieter:
"Dear food, I never thought you'd feel this way,
you, who would remodel my body, as if it were clay.
You made my weight go up and down,
you were King, you wore the crown.
You said you were there to comfort me,
but you never ever set me free.
I won the round and then the match,
I shall never eat brownies by the batch."
Food:
“Ah, what happened to the girl who used to be,
Who would eat 8 cookies with her tea?
The honey buns sit stale and dry,
The crust now gets soggy under your pie.
A pound of steak was just your style,
Now your plate with food, you never pile.
Leftover spaghetti was your favorite brunch,
Now your children pack it for their lunch.
Your romance with us is a thing of the past,
How could a person change so fast?"
Dieter:
"Dear food, I never thought you'd feel this way,
you, who would remodel my body, as if it were clay.
You made my weight go up and down,
you were King, you wore the crown.
You said you were there to comfort me,
but you never ever set me free.
I won the round and then the match,
I shall never eat brownies by the batch."
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