"diabetes" poems
To ill is scourge hazard of modern man;
The way of life which tricked you leaves you weak.
Before it pounced, prevent you must! You can,
Your visions blur, your limbs cut, your times bleak.
Avoid refined sweetness pure, you should know,
The more you love to eat the more you crave;
Your sweet tongue urged pleasures deals a cruel blow,
The more you indulge, closer be your grave.
This sickness gradual erosion of health,
Like shrinking pools merciless sun would drain.
A diabetic's woe: no amount of wealth,
Could stop the vines that binds and break the chain.
Without remedy and won't heal for good,
So sweat, please monitor intake of food.
Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 7:07 PM UTC
Your caress is silky and creamy like butter
And my darling, I'm afraid that your lingering touch will give me diabetes
Your heart crumbles like flour when I press mine against it
And beads of sugar hang like dew upon your lashes
Maybe if I blended you up into cookie dough
And baked you at 350 for 15 minutes until you were golden brown
Then I wouldn't be afraid to stroke your resplendent face
Perhaps I wouldn't wince at the thought of pressing my ear against your chest
Just to hear your confectionary heart quiver
And there wouldn't be the slightest trepidation when I kissed your intoxicating tears
But I'm afraid that I'll leave you in for too long
And your saccharine core will harden and reek of soot
And with the slightest touch, you'll be reduced to ash
And your cremated remains will get frightened at the accusatory wail of the smoke detector
And they'll seek refuge in my oven's crevices
Never to be seen again
Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 7:35 PM UTC
To future conquering civilizations
in galaxies far far away . . .
don't worry about polluting the air,
our smokestacks have shot dirty-bombs
into the clouds for centuries,
mixing rain drops with the
black grime of industrialization,
transforming our children's tears
into cesspools of sulfuric acid and ddt.
We've also drained the bayous and swamps
and between you and me
don't even bother landing in Africa
there isn't suitable drinking water
for miles, you see.
You can thank years of colonization for that.
In fact, you may not want to land
on Mondays, Tuesdays, or Thursdays
in LA either-
on those days the air quality index
is 175 and far too unhealthy for any
biological organism to survive.
But at least you won't die of malnutrition
you've got decisions:
McDonald's or Burger King
choose
cholesterol and diabetes are your shock troops.
Send them in immediately,
there won't be much resistance
we've got these things call lazy boys
and daytime t.v which have
enslaved the population and decreased
the distance
between fully functioning
human beings and mindless apes.
Don't worry about bringing weapons
we've got those too
we've perfected the art of blowing each other away
there's not much for you to do.
we destroy cities with fire from the sky
and our mushroom clouds rise
at least ten miles high.
And god can't see, there's too much smoke
in his eyes
and our radiated children die
with radiated sighs.
While we are on the topic
don't worry about us spreading
propaganda
we've lost the ability to communicate.
We've learned
books turn a peculiar dark yellow
when lighted and burned.
And forget erasing history,
we've done that too.
Our subjugation of native peoples
is masked as 'patriotism'
under the red, white, and blue.
But don't get me wrong,
I tell you all
of this not to dissuade,
please come and attack,
please come and invade.
Here, I'll even turn
on the lights . . .
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 9:06 PM UTC
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Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
America, the land of lies
America, the land of homophobia,
America, the land of endless sin,
America, the land where church and state are not separate,
America, the land where we let a 3000 year old book dictate our laws and policies,
America, the land where a man who can throw a football well makes 50 times more than a man who saves lives on a daily basis,
America, the land of diabetes, heart failure, obesity, and McDonald's,
America, the land where we debate whether healthcare is a right or a privilege,
America, the land where company profits are more important than the well being of the human race,
America, the land where we spend twice as much on healthcare than other country,
America, the land where our overall health rating is 26th compared to other countries,
America, the land where we claim all men are created equal,
America, the land where a man can't marry another man,
America, the land that promotes democracy by invading countries and forcing democracy on the people,
America, the land where our education system is suffering constant budget cuts,
America, the land of debt,
America, the land of problems.
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 12:33 AM UTC
Dear Hot Straight Actresses,
Stop playing perfect lesbian characters on TV that cause me to become wet on lonely Thursday nights.
It’s the equivalent of waving double chocolate fudge cake in front of a menstruating woman who has just been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes.
To name a few,
Jennifer Beals as Bette Porter on The L Word.
Stop it!
Naya Rivera as the sassy Santana Lopez on Glee.
Stop it!
Angie Harmon as butch goddess Detective Jane Rizzoli on Rizzoli & Isles.
You may be in the closet but you are gay and stop!
And Sara Ramirez and Jessica Capshaw as the married ****** Dr. Cali Torrez and Dr. Arizona Robbins of Grey’s Anatomy.
You…you keep going. You two give me hope.
Hope that someday my insanely high expectations will be met when my hot art collecting, sassy mouthed Doctor with handcuffs in her back pocket jumps from the screen and onto my sweatpants covered lap.
In this crazy assumption that I’ll end up falling out of an apple tree letting gravity push me into the arms of a woman who fixes my broken sense of reality with a amazing great hair and a wedding proposal.
Missing out on the
Hot barista who gives me an extra large when I ask for a small
or the
Budding **** artist who invites me to her galleries only to realize her muse has oddly the same hips as me.
or the
Best friend who is still stuck in the shadows of my closet.
Nope…didn’t see any of those.
I’m too busy watching the **** tube to see what low cut tops they can get away with before they leave the set and back to their husband and 2.5 kids.
All I’m asking is…
…when is it coming out on DVD?
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 7:17 AM UTC
Calories.
When I was 6 years old,
my mother told me I would consume
too many calories.
I would consume them by the hundreds,
by the thousands.
I was Godzilla and they were the people I dominated.
When my parents left one another
I had to fill myself with some other source of affection.
And the insulin rushes were tremendous.
When I was 11,
I had to see the doctor to be in fear of getting Diabetes,
and being grossly overweight.
At at age of 15, I was over 280 pounds
of walking disappointments.
I had always believed my stomach carried my happiness
and the fat under my chin kept my head high.
But after being rejected for so long,
I snapped.
I always had an attachment to food,
a sort of inseperable bond.
But I remember looking at myself in the mirror one night,
completely disgusted, tears welling in my eyes,
and I puked from the anger I felt inside of me.
So don't tell me the calories I consume today
don't burn more
than the bleach Amanda Todd drank,
or that the more hollow my stomach becomes,
I am not able to better hide my sorrows.
Do not dare tell me eat something,
because I've craved biting the bullet for the past 8
******* years, and carbohydrates
has caused more sadness in my heart than anything else.
Do not tell me other teenagers do not cut open their arms,
to let calories out,
because they are scared to Christ that someone may judge them,
if they eat an apple.
Because the first woman that ate an apple, ****** humankind.
And by having a sip of your Iced Tea,
or a french fry, might just dissolve the earth from beneath us.
Why we hide from nutrition labels,
and run from anything with a number greater than
ZERO
on it.
I was taught that happiness comes from a nutrition label,
and how many servings one consumes,
not the smile on ones face,
or the good in one's heart.
Calories have ruined my life,
and I will never forgive any nutrition label for that.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 2:57 AM UTC
As I ponder, perplexed by the possibility
Of a premature passing that may present itself to me
I consider and calculate
Though my conclusion may be crude
That the finest fix for my fear is a feasting of food
I munch on a morsel, my mouth making moisture
Overwhelmingly open to offal and oysters
I'd take them, temptation takes its toll
Curiosity for calories that I can't control
I'd have them, Hoover them, heck I'd hoard 'em
But by now I believe it's basically boredom
Not a necessity to nibble the nosh
It's late I ate a plate at eight, I can wait my gosh
No, I know there is no need
To slurp on soup or scoff some seeds
Only fatigue fuelling the feeling to feed
Got to get to grips with this gross and grotesque greed
Choking on choices, trembling in my chair
Do I punt for the pudding, the peach or the pear?
Selecting such seductive sweeties
Or dealing with death, diets and diabetes?
While I wonder and weep about what will win
My insatiable starvation stumbles on a sin
Not funny you'll find when you're finished and fat
'Cause in the kitchen on the counter there's a KitKat
Four fiendish fingers fascinate the feeling
So seductive, my senses soaring to the ceiling
Try to meet it, cheat it, beat it, defeat it
But what the hell, I don't care, I'll just ****** eat it.
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 5:08 AM UTC
The Great Newfoundland novel (summation)
A young man brimming with
Townie **** and vinegar or
Bay boy brimming with obnoxious bravado
Eventually he leaves and discovers
How people treat fellow man
Seemingly beaten down
Genetic history Of Newfoundland Truck System
Alongside founders population variance,
Upward spike in heart disease, stroke, diabetes, cancers
Lurks engrained learned hopelessness
Smouldering in "Newfie" jokes
You'd better hope I let it slide
Unless you wanna find out
What a peat moss bog smells like
Or how it feels to freeze to death
Tied to a crucifix
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 9:10 PM UTC
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Candies are sweet
But not as sweet as you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Candies are junkfood
So, it is unhealthy for you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Too much of 'you'
Diabetes may take due
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Eventhough you are sweet
Doesn't mean I have fallen for you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
There are many fishes in the ocean
And ***** animals in the zoo
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I prefer bread than candy
At least they give me more energy for the business I do
Roses are red
Violets are blue
If you haven't notice
I'm done of you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Love is a complicated mystery
To solve it, there is no clue
Feb 9, 2014
Feb 9, 2014 at 3:45 AM UTC
diabetes
comes from treaties
from the hoagie fest
to the real test:
shrink
and his
****
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 4:24 PM UTC
I'd last about an hour as a clerk inside a store
invariably I'd shoot my mouth off
about someone's daughter dressing like a *****
or making comments about the dreadful things consumed
which would include a good 99% of the people in the room
I'd eventually end up getting my lights punched out
after ********* someone as a fat *** undiscerning lout
or cracking some aside regarding what comprises that crud
and making faces of revulsion "you'd be better off eating mud"
ewwwww, you really eat that stuff?
this store should be sued for selling such bluff
children with diabetes, a third of adults obese
the courtesy clerk dies a little for lack of surcease
line after line of vapid consumers
mindless knee-jerk impetuosity belay the rumors
what's an adulterant, what's a filler?
propylene glycol alginate, yum yum
sorbitan mono sterate, shut up and eat it, its fun!
I can't even pronounce it, much less do I care
need I be a scientist to enjoyably savor fare
Go ahead and poison yourself
the quirky clerk exclaimed
its ever so clear you're stupid and lame
stay mired in your pig-headed muck of ignorance
you're exactly what they want
another brain dead consumer
a regular culinary savant
stuff your face with no remorse nor heed
no worries, the clerk of little courtesy knows your need
he'll limply wheel out your cart of miserable choices for you
and wise-crack some snarky rejoinder
then promptly get beaten, black and blue
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 8:09 PM UTC
you see i am very very hungry, so much in fact
i burp very weirdly, yeah i feel so weird
i burp loud and i burp soft when i have a nice cream bun or a nice beef nachos
and i feel like a nice packet of chocolate biscuits
ya know to have with my coca cola
i was watching ellen degenerous and i felt like eating the pie that went in the contestants face
yeah i feel like a bag of popcorn as well as choctop at the movies
because my mouth is burping very weirdly
i don’t want to have this burping feeling
i feel like a strawberry milk and i am fighting myself saying, no, i don’t need it
the strawberry milk says yes, i do, but i don’t want a strawberry milk, it’ll just make me fat
i wanna lose weight but the burping is making me want food, i want a nice chocolate bar
and i want a bag of marshmallows, i want to have more energy
so i can be a cool person, that i am,
i know the burping really is bugging me
and i do want it to stop, STOP, making me feel this way, i want to an artist and a writer and not an eater
please leave me alone strawberry milk and leave me alone chocolate biscuits, i don’t want to eat you
i feel like a chocolate biscuit, but then i say, i will grow fat, ya know keep the fat on me
i don’t want to be fat, i want to lose weight, so leave me alone ya ****** strawberry milk and coke
i want to feel fit in my mind, so i can write and be creative
please leave me alone, junk food, i don’t want to eat you
but the junk food gets in my mind and makes me smell the nice chocolate
i know coke used to be a medicine, but i don’t wanna drink ya
i like to have a healthy lifestyle, and i want to lose this burping because
it’s the medication making me wanna eat, like donuts and vanilla slices and cream buns
and dewok chinese stir fry’s and chocolate biscuits and chocolate desserts and strawberry milk
and a large bottle of coca cola, as my medicine, I DON’T WANT THAT
i had a garden salad for lunch as well as a few glasses of water
i hate being fat, so that means at 2-30 pm, i will go for another walk, whether i feel like it or not
because i must get rid of all this food from my body, so i don’t get diabetes
so if you feel fat, because you eat too much food, push yourself into walking
and walk a regular pace, so you don’t feel sluggish
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 10:06 PM UTC
- Ode to food .
Barbecue Ribs ;
I Swear If Youu Were a person youu'd Have a Crown .
You'd Be The Queen of your town .
Youu make Other Foods Envy Youu Because of your delicious Barbeque Sauce And Your Juicy Meat .
Youu got fans because Your who their mouth wants to meet .
Ice cream ;
Your cold ,
But you never get old .
Everyone Loves Youu ,Your Like Your Heaven sent .
Everyone Loves you Exept For the lactose - intolerant .
You come in different flavors ,
Your served in different Dishes ,
You have different Toppings ,
The one thing people Is Scared To do to youu is dropping .
Youu melt down people's Throat ,
Filling them with joy .
Youu make babys Wanna leave their favorite toy .
Chips ;
Crunchy ,
Munchy .
Who Dosnt Eat Youu ?
Like , I mean everyone Likes you new .
Your so fly .
Not literaly Fly .
Thats Apparently a lie ,
Its Obvious you cant fly .
Your different .
Youu Come differently ..
Your so good they clone youu Continuesly .
Chicken ;
Youu had to die
To Satisfy .
Youu do Good to my stomach ,
Make Me Feel good .
Your so good .
Youu Can even be barbequed ,
Your so good i wanna play a harp for youu .
You Can Be Boiled Too .
But I Dont Like you like that , Eww .
Candy ;
Your so dandy .
You Come In Different Varieties .
Skittles , M&MS; Even Jelly beans .
Who dont love youu , i mean Youu That Babie .
Everyone love youu Exept People with Diabetes .
This Is My Ode Too Food .
Food That Taste M-m-m Good .
Jul 3, 2012
Jul 3, 2012 at 1:50 AM UTC
Early.
I became the bottom of a shoe. Worthless, unwarranted, but there, needed.
Rubber and worn, worn away to the thinnest part, and still used.
Hands became words, and hugs became extinct, tears became invisible, the 'childhood' was erased.
Diabetes became my mother, known as rejection, and depression, her twin, known as rage.
Insulin and Fluoxetine became my equally demanding toddlers; I was feeding a family of 6 at the age of 8.
Later.
I watched my brother become a tortured child, in his sleep - the sound of his waterproof sheets would keep me awake, as i lay worried that his screams were words he could not utter at his age.
I watched my sister grow cold as she watch her house burning down around her, and crying tears at the loss of her childhood, her eyes burned at me.
As i looked in the mirror, when i cried, i would flush the toilet just to hear what it feels like to be washed away.
Disappeared down the drain.
I shrunk 4 inches in 4 years, one inch for each bottle of poison, that said 'drink me'.
I shrunk 4 inches in another 4 years for every word that said 'eat me'.
I shrunk so that I could not grow, up.
Later still.
I became broken, hard to 'fix'.
I became lost, without a cause.
I became the rebel, odd-one-out.
Family grew fractured, broken mirrors lay on all our floors, that we skirted around, lest we should bled it all out, what had happened.
Relationships broke, one after another, after, another, after, another, after....
Faces lost feeling, words became laws, feelings became problems, love became, raw and unused.
We dissipated, dissolved, into a million pieces of broken, into the world, held together by very thin words of 'family'
Now.
I am not a child anymore.
It's time to be heard.
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 7:01 PM UTC
Diabetes, babe
Why can’t you be kind to me?
I appreciate your sweetness and all.
Setting my life on “reset”
And making me feel like ****
Diabetes, my love
Can you please be nice to me?
Give me a few more years to live
Stop making my mouth dry
Stop making ‘ama cry
Diabetes, chiquito
Tratame bien corazon,
No me metas tentacion
Por que de ver los tamales,
El pozole, el salpicon
Se me olvida que el suicidio
Se esconde en un chicharron
Diabetes, mi rey
Anda pues no te hagas wey
Que la dieta sea mi amiga
Librame de la fatiga
Y de la azucar maligna
Diabetes,
Let me live
I want to eat cheesecake again
Life without sugar is lame
And equal is not so great
Diabetes, babe
Let me be…
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 3:12 AM UTC
so it starts with a girl, barely the age of 10 and already wondering when the baby fat will melt off
glances in the mirror at unwanted curves and softness
why would a 10 year old need to worry about their body?
comments from a father about diets and diseases and suddenly food stops being a necessity but a burden
a brother remarking how a second helping is how you develop diabetes, you don't eat again that night
mom tries to help, "you've got a nice figure" she says
it only makes you hate the softness more
so a girl, at the ripe age of 17, decides that food is no longer a nessesity but a burden
a few months into it a friend makes a joke how you need to start eating more because of how small you're getting
you laugh it off and ignore the pride swelling in your chest
because food was never good or nourishing
but rather numbers on a scale and buttons that didn't quite close
because food was always a burden and never a nesessity
Aug 17, 2022
Aug 17, 2022 at 11:48 AM UTC
You are going to die
before me.
I already know this.
You are going to get fat
and go completely blind
and probably,
eventually, they will
cut some parts off.
You are going to fall apart
in front of me.
I know this.
I still choose to stay.
I will be there
through all the appointments,
the stickings and pokings and cuttings and bleedings.
I have only wiped
a few *****
in my life.
Mine,
my son's,
a few babies
of friends.
I already plan on wiping yours
when you cannot.
I will draw
little sugar skulls
on your prosthetic feet.
I will make sure you always have enough medicine and it is always refrigerated.
I will help you
in and out
of the bathtub.
I will massage your legs
and arms
and back
and head
and neck,
every day.
I will make our boys breakfast
and walk the dogs
and make sure everything
goes back in the
same exact spot
and keep a file with all the pertinent medical information
so I can fill out all the paperwork.
I will take you to
all those folk rock shows you love so much
and describe the singers to you.
We will still garden together.
I can see you in a chair,
barking out questions
about our harvest and me,
going back and forth,
bringing you the biggest squash
to hold.
You see, I have given up thinking
I am ever going to
give myself to anyone else.
It is you and you alone.
So, when you start to fall apart,
and you will fall apart,
don't worry baby.
I am going to be there to wipe your ***
May 28, 2012
May 28, 2012 at 6:13 PM UTC
*retardation, inflammation, all these kids gettin shot up, diabetes nation. earthquake hits, tsunamis rip, solar flare sun, getting our magnetic polar shift on.
been around much to long to believe all the ******** they are trying to run a country on, think it's about time we awaken, come together and form a new united nations.
grew up in an age where blowin **** up made the front page, trading tourism for terrorism, gorilla warfare versus patriotic heroism.
**** the news, i been hit the with the love struck blues, instead spend my time promoting free energy, "Nikola Tesla's technology abolishes slavery"... Last call to end the fed, freedom for eternity; did you hear Britney Spears shaved her head?*
Apr 27, 2012
Apr 27, 2012 at 5:29 AM UTC
the addict told *******
he was moving out of town
and could never be found
the **** user
kept calling her hypothalamus
but it never called back
the midbrain begged
the frontal cortex please
just one more time, ok?
the parents wondered
why the alcohol counselor
was not Jesus
the *** addict apologized
to the therapist
for not wearing underwear
again
the alcoholic told his boss
his grandmother died of juvenile diabetes
and he had to go to his funeral
the counselor sighed
then read again
what the Tao Te King said
about nature's inscrutable ways
Dec 24, 2011
Dec 24, 2011 at 9:39 AM UTC
Porage Oats?
Porridge simmering slowly on an old gas hob,
In a large enamel *** that was kept for this job.
We stirred it occasionally with a spoon shaped stick,
This stopped it burning or getting too thick.
You knew when it was time to do the spoon test,
If the spoon stood up strait then it was at its best.
Served with golden treacle the way I liked it most,
That melted like a glaze Oh yes and a slice of toast.
Those cold winter mornings it warmed the heart,
We would all walk to school with a healthy start.
Just been too busy working all my life,
No time to make porridge for me and my wife.
I have tried many new cereals in the past 40 years,
Some not to bad but containing too much sugar.
They call it glaze with bits of chocolate to,
But with a threat of diabetes it just will not do.
Now that I’m retired I go shopping every day,
More time for cooking in the old fashioned way.
Last winter a large promotion caught my eye,
It was for porridge, I could not pass it bye.
Not the instant stuff, cooked in minutes two,
It's Proper Porage Oats that sticks like glue.
Is this a second childhood where I want to play?
No, just a wholesome breakfast for a frosty day.
Jul 19, 2011
Jul 19, 2011 at 8:32 AM UTC
Let health-nuts wear out running shoes,
And let them eat their Wheaties,
While we enjoy some Mountain Dews,
And drink to diabetes!
O.O
Oct 24, 2015
Oct 24, 2015 at 2:20 PM UTC
I hate my hips. I hate how the friction between my thighs makes
me feel I hate how the fat on my stomach goes outwards and not inwards.
those are the worst days. the ones when my skinny-fat-gangly body
is an odyssey all on it's own and my mother's home cooked meals
become saturated oceans of salt in my stomach and make me become
this uncontrollable monster that eats everything without mercy
and ravages my refrigerator until my self pity becomes obvious
in the mirror as my skinny-fat hips become more apparent and
until I am left by myself, surrounded by tears that taste like fries
that are much too salty and chicken that tastes all too much like diabetes.
I hate my hips. I hate how they don't move to the familiar beat of the
Spanish songs that always play in my house I hate how they are
not big enough to grab people's attention but not small enough
to please my ideals of beauty. my hips remind me that I am an outsider
in my own culture, a family where you see the women's *** before
you see her face and they remind me that I am not socially acceptable.
I hate my hips. I hate my face. I hate how my forehead is large enough
to be a canvas for the world and how my eyebrows are as
transparent as a Dominican ocean I hate how my nose stretches
when I grin and how my ears stick out like something someone
didn't mean to place. I hate my face. I hate how when people look at me,
they do not see the shape of my lips or my cheek bones or anything
I love about myself all they see is a girl with hips too small and
with a forehead to large and with everything wrong. I hate how I look.
being confident is not an option being happy is only a facade
and when my father tells me I am beautiful it takes everything
in me to not tell him to stop lying. insecurity is not something you
simply get over or something you can hide it is the small voice
in your head that tells you that you are a mistake it marches all over
your mind and sets your self-esteem to ashes. whenever I wake up in
the morning there is a pressing weight on my chest and the feeling
that I should live alone because all people will ever see is my
appearance and whenever I brush my teeth I try my hardest to
avoid the mirror but when I do look in the mirror and I see
my reflection the bitter resentment towards who I am strikes me
so hard that it slaps me into reality. I am me. There is nothing I can change
about my bone structure or the large canvas on my face and I will have
to live like this every day until I die.
how can insecurity not be a problem?
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 8:10 PM UTC
Sweetness is detrimental
When it is too much
Limit your intake
To save yourself from any future ache.
Sweetness is detrimental
When it is too much
Eating more sweets
Make you prone to diabetes.
Sweetness is detrimental
When it is too much
Chocolates and cakes
Could cause toothaches.
Sweetness is detrimental
When it is too much
A hug and a kiss
When gone, you would badly miss.
Sweetness is detrimental
When it is too much
When your lover left you
Heartaches will torment you.
Sweetness is detrimental
When it is too much
It has been your sanity
When gone, you'd go crazy.
Sweetness is detrimental
When it is too much
Have a limited intake
And you will not have any future ache.
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 9:53 PM UTC