Christmas Day is done & gone
And now I feel so yuck.
I’m fat & stuffed & way past full,
I hope my scale is stuck.
It wasn’t Christmas dinner,
Not turkey, ham, nor duck.
But all that cake & chocolate
That makes me want to chuck.
I didn’t mean to do it,
And I feel like such a schmuck.
For eating with such fervour,
That I weigh more than a truck.
It’s now all done & in the past,
I must regain my pluck.
I need to eat a whole lot less,
To skip that nip & tuck.
It’s time to knuckle down again,
And wade out of this muck.
I just can’t wait for new year’s day,
That trend I need to buck.
Instead, I’m on the wagon now,
With courage & with pluck.
I’ll screw it to the sticking place,
I’ll slapshot with that puck.
It’s here, it’s now, it starts today,
I’m done with all that guck.
If I don’t get it right this time,
My life will surely suck.
You’ll wonder how I got this far,
Without me saying … Luck!
I’ll need that too but saved one more,
Should things still run amuck.
I’m sure that you can guess this word,
And no, it isn’t cluck, nor struck!
And should I need it, I’ll still be…
One very fat Canuck!
©Paul Walsh 2019