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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Inspired on holiday in Italy

Submitted: May 17, 2012

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Submitted: May 17, 2012




Why in Britain are people so ugly?
And so proud of it?
So much so that we feel it necessary
To show off every little bit:

Back fat hides the bikini strap,
Bellies roll from T-shirt folds,
Clothing gets wet from gallons of sweat,
Our chubby cheeks becoming chic.

Not to mention that our
Ankles flow over the stiletto,
Bingo wings flap from their short sleeve trap,
Stretched boobs fall below their tubes,

All men wear shorts when they don't do sports
Which actually explains why we're
Over weight above the waist,
Over weight below the waist.

It makes perfect sense, so well God might,
Put our behinds from out of sight,
It makes ignorance an absolute bliss,
Now that people wear Speedos. That's a swing and a miss

From the recommended health.
Is it to do with wealth?
Now we can afford to eat all day
putting on ten stone seems perfectly OK.

Maybe it's expected to put on a bit,
A symbol of money to be unfit.
Such a compelling sign of affluence
That it doesn't deserve a second glance.

It's understandable,
I wouldn't glance twice
at a spherical stomach
like a snake eating mice.

So maybe it's society, not us at blame,
if that's true, be my guest, make it a game.
Clog up your heart, raise your cholesterol,
See how many people you can fit in the hospital.

If you play with food, you will get beaten,
(and if you're really unlucky, you might then get eaten)
when calories kill you, in my mind, good riddance,
Fatness is something which should be forbidden.

© Copyright 2019 Will Foreman. All rights reserved.

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