The Weighing Machine And I

The Weighing Machine And I short poem

Photo by mini true

I dread the weight machine
That horrible, putrid little thing
It tells me lies that shatter me
Clasping my throat that I can’t breathe
Every time I step onto its platform
The spring beneath contorts in pain
It bends its rusty back, trying to conform
To all the holiday weight I’ve gained
The little minions inside this gadget
Protest and outrage upon my grand arrival
Well, they have not buried the hatchet
Since 2 weeks ago, to my utmost dismay
So with locked brows and heavy stomping,
They report to their supervisor
“Sir, Emily’s been overeating, my goodness!
This time, we mustn’t hesitate to be harsher
So she’d reflect and curb her greediness!”
The senior pushes up his frameless glasses
He nods, his gray eyes lock with his juniors’
“You’re right. So let me hear your voices
Then let me plan a rude verdict to her.”
And so by a twist of fate,
Fuelled by stress and hate
He fiddled with the inner clockwork gear
The numbers truncated and made me tear
Gosh, where did those 2 kilos come from?
I gently pinch my belly fats, in a frown
I must work out! This is too embarrassing!
But first, let me do my favorite routine
I tiptoe and reach for a packet of biscuits
The senior see it, and pulls his hair in distress
Oh, when will she ever learn from her mistake!
At this rate, she’d never fit into her lovely dress
I’m sorry boss, I’d really love to be lean and fair
But after all the fuss, I must admit
I don’t really care.

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Emily Liang

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Semi-sweet and a little nutty. Introverted, socially awkward, but still easy-going and loves penning short legacies in poetry. Big on all things red, and passionate about music. Down-to-earth and enjoys short walks in mother nature's embrace. Smile people, today's going to be a great day. Try stuff you've never tried, go places, venture abroad and live a life you will remember.
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