Saviodsilva


Tess Rowley
Poem

The Losing Game

I've got to lose a kilogram
Me buttonholes are stretching
And when I bend down in me shorts
Me rear end aint so fetching
But morning tea is on the go,
A creamy lemon sponge
And Easter eggs are in the shops
Next week I'll take the plunge.

I've got to lose 2 kilograms
Me zipper's lost its zip
Me jeans feel like steel corsets
And won't pull past me hips.
But there's a birthday celebration
With chips, pav and cheese platter
So I'll just have a tiny smidge
And watch me waist get fatter.

I HAVE to lose 3 kilograms
Me swim togs straps feel shorter
They cut and I can't stand up straight
So I avoid the water.
With all the Christmas barbecues
Held at the beach or pool
I hide behind the snags and grog
And pile on kilojoules.

I will not think about my weight
The shops are full of holly
I'll HO HO HO and stir the cake
And try to act all jolly
So push the thin jeans to the back
And put on my fat gear
I HAVE to lose some kilograms
Perhaps I'll start next year.

Tess Rowley


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