The End Of Obesity: No, You Didn’t Pick The Appalachian Trail, But It Sure As Sunshine Picked You

Go ahead, grab your belly, give it a good squeeze like it’s jelly.

You didn’t pick it, but that’s that you your ticket.

You will take a year off, don’t scoff.

On the double, because you are facing organ trouble.

I don’t want to make leap, but I don’t think people like us die in our sleep.

Fat will cause our organs to fail, as we lie alone like a whale.

Diabetes will cut our limbs short, and it will be too late for sport.

Don’t you dare wait, until it is too late.

Yes, you will ruin your life, but you will survive.

Don’t wait too long, go, go! while you are strong.

You begin tonight, by sleeping under moonlight.

And tomorrow, get a tent and backpack, and maybe a pillow for your back.

Set up in the living room, let your tent become your new bedroom.

It will take a few tries, before you clam your prize.

But you are fighting to live long, and that is not wrong.

Your only hope is to survive, and live long and thrive.

It is OK that your life will change, it tolerance of obesity that is strange.

Begin by walking the Appalachian Trail, learn from each time you fail.

And then walk the Pacific Crest, and Continental Divide, and finally rest.

You will have earned the Triple Crown, learned to never back down.

Life will become more beautiful, and everything will be meaningful.

Now, whatever made you overeat, will stutter, and retreat.

You are well on your path to grow all the way up, you are no longer a jolly buttercup.

You will slowly listen to your narrated books, and begin rising above the crooks.

You will inherit your intellectual treasure, and carry your wisdom with pleasure.

May you begin your memoirs with, “I am a creature of the stars”.

And may you rise and rise until you become all seeing, until you stand tall, as a Great Being.