A Dieter's Desire

Oh my soul, be thou quiet

This is not 'another diet'

Just a program of exchange

Though some things do seem strange

Raw vegetables and 'brock-o-lee'

Does not sound too good to me

Lots of tofu and bean sprouts

While my empty stomach shouts

The meaning here is quite plain;

This program is designed for pain

Someone with anorexia planned

A program that tastes like sand

My hands are sweating, my soul is dreading

I must keep this thing from spreading

My only hope, the paper shredder

It finally made this diet better

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