Doctor's Prescription Poem by Frank Okoth

Her sweat continued to flow
more than her tears did,
she was born in a silver spoon,
she never knew hunger, not even now,
at 28 she has grown too fat with 128.

She is sweating and still crying,
her weight is weighing her breath down,
she is sick, its hard to breathe,
she is gasping for breath,
she needs a doctors prescription.

You must go jogging early in the morning,
you must come jogging even in the evening,
today is 28th by the fourth 28th you should have lost 28.
That was the doctors prescription.

Lazily out she went at dawn,
trying to let out twenty eight,
all she could do was walk instead of jog,
her tears were flowing Her sweat too.

Dates had come and gone
doctor's prescription couldn't comply,
it was the fourth twenty eighth,
she had done the opposite
in 128 she had added 28.

The young lady was heavy,
she knew she had to die,
she was sweating all over
her tears out of order.

So young, so many dreams
so slow, so many miles
she is not tired, her body is
she is not crying, its eye water.

She was buried.