I play heavy music
as I move heavy metal.
Less than massive
muscles straining
shirt getting wetter
as I try to be better.

Don’t want the girl
at the desk to think
that I am a *****
even though a ******
is a powerful thing.

So, I pack those plates
though they are not
as impressively placed
as they used to be
when a younger me
worked out rigorously
with an anger and certainty
that motivated me powerfully.

I pushed my body
just this side of too far
three days still sore
from my leg exercises
with mediocre form.

I miss that younger guy
who liked to workout at night
to episodes of his favorite shows,
two hours or so at each go
then let eighteen more pass by
till he got to work out again.

Home or gym
it didn’t matter to him.
Now, I work and try to fit in
that same energy and passion
that I am frustratingly lacking.