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You're not supposed to whisper to yourself when you're around food.
It's one of the bad signs;
A warning sign flashing in black and white;
Aspiring to the old commitments.
Are you really trying not to be fine?
I guess you're thinking that it's bad enough already,
So you may as well extend it,
No one is even going to notice.
When they do you'll have been through so much
That they are going to applaud you.
That's a sick thought,
That's what you're thinking
But this poem is you addressing yourself.
See, you're aware of what you're doing.

— The End —