Summer can be a time we dread
When we, with skin too white or red
See all those girls with pouting lips,
Much smoother thighs and slimmer hips
Who, smug and lycra-clad, glide by
While girls like me can only sigh
And then renew with all our might
That ongoing war with cellulite.
I try to loose each pound I gain
That I might yet be slim again
Most often, starting with a craze
For exercise, which lasts some days
But as the time wears slowly on
My strong resolve is soon all gone
For though I always am at pains
To run about, my weight remains
The same. Or, I’ll start weighing more
Than I have ever done before.
“It’s muscle under there, you know
Not long and it’ll start to show.”
Some tell me. Others look aghast
As stolidly I wobble past.
“Oh how I wish one day I’ll pinch
And there will only be an inch”
I say dejectedly and grab
Another foot or so of flab
As forcefully I remonstrate
And wave it round to demonstrate….
Perhaps they’re right and I’d grow slim
But I’m no natural at the gym
And all the skinny people stare
And wonder what I’m doing there.
An instant fix is not obtained
And all their gawping leaves me drained…
It’s difficult, cause girls like that
Would make a mannequin look fat.
These ladies want to look, it seems,
Just like the ones in magazines.
Stretched photos, glossed with airbrush inks
And tans made up with darker tints
Set standards I will never meet
No normal person could and eat.
They say the camera never lies
But certainly, it blurs its eyes
And those of us who think we’re fat
Could often well remember that.
So, if you’re 5ft 6 like me
But think you should weigh 8 stone 3
And starve yourself as like as not
Yet with it, exercise a lot
And worry when you’re all alone
‘Cause still you seem to weigh nine stone
Forget this mad insanity.
Stop pandering to vanity
You’re really better off by far
Enjoying life the way you are.