Diet-Ting Poem by shimon weinroth

today I will diet
even when a sweet aroma
comes wafting its way
to sway and alay
this most serious resolution

I've made up my mind
I won't fall prey
I'll refuse and deny
the seductive morsels
delicious memories

taste buds a-moaning, come hither come here,
most appetite dear, I'll stand my ground,
rule those senses of sloth and obscene
no longer need to gorge and feed,
I've made up my mind

I never know at what moment, my resolves turn
to fickle, waver and tumble o'er turned,
collapsing, Samson's temple of pillage
pillars rain down on this pagan of senses,
and I shall grow fat and rotund, fat and obese

all because i satisfied that one desire,
now I belch and pat my paunch, and gluttony
sighs, tomorrow, I shall try again
and cry for a diet
that will come again and again