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The Art of Poetry.
Losing Weight
© February 2, 1988 by Paul M. Combs, Jr. All Rights Reserved

Losing weight is the thing of the past,
I could not do it to save my ass.
Getting fatter, the older I get,
It doesn’t matter; you’re full of shit,
If you say, I’m losing weight.

I feel the tension of my belt,
on the scale, you hear my shout,
Oh, shit, I’m not losing weight.

Made a bet with my friend,
I’d lose weight, and I’d win.
Twenty dollars down the drain.
In the end, I had gained more weight.

What’s it matter to be a hog.
I may be fat, but I’m no mod.
When I hear the words, losing weight,
I don’t give a shit, I just fucking ate.