Trapped in a body
I don't recognize

The clothes that I'm wearing
Are not my size

I'm thinner than this
I know I am

What the mirror reflects
is just a scam

The food I consume
Doesn't all come out

Some turns to fat
And just layers about

It does keep me warm
On a cold winters night

No need for a belt
Now my pants are so tight

The solution is clear
I need exercise

Choose the small plates I know
Not the super size

It's the commitment and work
That I truly dread

To hell with it all
I'll be thin when I'm dead

Mystery Meat

You'll find it sometimes
in what you eat.
What it is, you might ask?
It's Mystery Meat!
Smells kinda weird,
and looks just like ****.
I don't want a dollop.
No, not even a scoop.
I don't even want it in Mystery Soup.

Writing feelings in words is easy
Some people say
Could be poetry

Mankind struts, across the earth,
              believing himself so wise.

Like the crowing bird, sure his voice,
                has made the sun rise.

As your yesterday's continue to pile,
   may most, be remembered with a smile.